The soapstone dolphin carved by Orion Oh’s grandfather functions as a symbol of inheritance and emotional continuity. Passed down from Grandpa Valerio—a machinist who sculpted “on the side” (103)—the figurine links Orion to a lineage of craft and creativity. In this way, the dolphin reinforces the theme of Creativity and Art in Emotional Healing, foreshadowing Orion’s eventual turn toward artistic self-reflection.

That Orion repeatedly notes its presence—he remarks, “The little marble dolphin my grandfather made for me when I was a kid is in there, too” (298), and later, “When I reach over to turn off my light, it’s smiling at me: that little soapstone dolphin” (919)—underscores its emotional significance, as does the fact that Orion packs it without fully understanding why. Figuratively, his confusion over packing the figurine implies attachments to origins that he has not fully examined. As a marine animal, the dolphin also evokes the novel’s broader water imagery while offering a counterpoint to the destructive and concealing functions that water assumes elsewhere in the narrative.

Recurring references to sharks and seals establish a predator-prey motif that parallels the novel’s exploration of power and vulnerability. Orion’s discovery of a seal carcass with its “organs […] eaten away” introduces imagery of exposure and consumption (311); that he links the sight to Jesus’s cry of abandonment on the cross reinforces the link to unresolved grief. Later, Tracy’s explanation that sharks remain near shore because seal populations have increased frames predation as behavior shaped by environmental conditions, which mirrors the novel’s portrayal of Intergenerational Trauma and Secrecy: Violence and exploitation among humans emerge within particular systems, whether familial, cultural, or institutional. The repeated presence of seal carcasses underscores that such dynamics leave behind visible, lingering aftereffects, while the sharks’ persistence hints at the dynamics’ cyclical nature. Rather than functioning as direct allegory, the motif lends nuance to the broader exploration of power and vulnerability in intimate relationships, suggesting that vulnerability often attracts domination within imbalanced systems.

A motif of religion underpins the novel’s broader exploration of moral responsibility within intimate and communal relationships. Religion shapes characters’ judgments, but their references to it also expose the gap between belief and behavior. For instance, Andrew Oh’s strict Christian convictions inform his initial condemnation of Annie’s marriage to Viveca, Marissa Oh’s choices, and Ariane’s nontraditional pregnancy; in each instance, his beliefs become a source of harm. Ruth similarly invokes religion to justify prejudice, framing Josephus Jones’s death as “[d]ivine justice” and appealing to God to conceal her husband’s crime. In these moments, faith becomes a mechanism for rationalizing prejudice and preserving an unjust status quo.

Yet the novel does not dismiss belief itself. Indeed, it casts both Ruth Fletcher and Andrew Oh as hypocritical in their claims to religiosity; their personal agendas shape which doctrines they appeal to and which they ignore. Moreover, Annie’s continued identification with Catholicism, despite institutional rejection of LGBTQ+ identities, suggests that the relationship between personal spirituality and institutional authority is complex—even that power flows both ways. Given his ethical failures and self-deceptions, Orion’s atheism further complicates the novel’s moral picture, demonstrating that religion is not the only source of social ills. The novel thus critiques religion’s misuse while acknowledging its emotional and cultural significance.