“You got me,” I told Miri, grinning at her. It felt more like baring my teeth at her, and her eyes widened a little bit. “Shall we begin the tour?”
“Great idea,” Miri concurred, and we entered the facility. Miri led us past the reception area and further into the building, chatting about the rescue organization as Don took notes, Avery asked polite questions, and I tried not to look too hard through any of the windows that we passed.
“How do the turtles find their way here?” Avery asked.
Miri nodded with enthusiasm. “Some are injured by boat propellers in the harbor, some are hit by cars, some are attacked by animals or sharks, and people would call us and we’d send someone out to scoop the little guy up. Some are cold-stunned by sudden drops of temperature.” She stopped at the door and
