“Joyful with the coming day, I splash and whistle at a milky sun. The dolphins wake and whistle too. They are suddenly and fully aware. The ocean fills with their sound.”

Mila’s narrations about her time with the dolphins are straightforward yet deeply poetic. The simplistic thoughts of a child are clearly present here. At the same time, there is a deep awareness of the world around her. Both she and the dolphins wake up and produce their songs, foreshadowing the importance of music in Mila’s life and in guiding her back home.

“She leaned forward and studied me with one eye, then slowly turning, she studied me with the other. It still amazes me every time I think about it—the way she connected with us.”

When Mila is found by other humans, she has all the dolphin mannerisms that a person could adopt: She even looks at the other humans as though her eyes were on the sides of her head. Although Dr. Beck believes that she is making a deep connection with her, ultimately Mila is a stranger to humans—and remains forever so.

“Dr. Beck says, Yes. Girl. Good, Mila. You are a girl.”

When Mila begins her lessons in language and human life, Dr. Beck asks her to write journal entries each day. These journals begin with an extremely simple format, and their language indicates that she has little understanding of human words. Mila is consistently and insistently told by the researchers surrounding her that she is a human girl; for a time, she believes it. Deep down, though, Mila knows she will only find real