Chương 2
The connection ended before I could answer.
I stared at the speaker.
For years, I had complained that my father ended phone calls like a CEO escaping a meeting.
Now I would have given anything for another thirty seconds.
Daniel told me to drink water if I could keep it down and not to take anything Flynn gave me.
He asked whether there was a secondary lock on the door.
There was.
I engaged it.
Then he asked whether Flynn had seen me access the emergency panel before.
“No.”
“Has anyone?”
“Not since Dad showed me.”
“Good.”
“What happens now?”
“Captain Mercer has received a silent alert.”
“And?”
“And nothing changes visibly until outside support is close enough to matter.”
I looked toward the door.
“You want me to pretend.”
“I want you alive.”
A soft chime sounded from somewhere beyond the bedroom.
Dinner service.
Normally, someone would arrive within fifteen minutes to turn down the bed and leave ridiculous chocolates on the pillows.
Flynn had eaten mine every night.
The memory came without permission.
On our first night aboard, he had bitten into the chocolate and made a face because it contained coconut.
I had laughed so hard I spilled champagne on the duvet.
Three nights ago.
It felt like evidence from another person’s marriage.
“What if he comes back?”
“He probably will.”
“What do I tell him?”
“The truth where possible.”
I frowned.
Daniel explained.
“You’re sick.”
“That part isn’t difficult.”
“You’re tired.”
“Also true.”
“You want to rest.”
I rubbed my arms.
“And when he brings me more pills?”
“Do not swallow them.”
“He watches.”
“Can you conceal them?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t attempt anything elaborate.”
I almost snapped at him that concealing poison from my husband felt fairly elaborate already.
Instead I heard myself ask, “How long?”
“Until we can secure you?”
“Yes.”
“We’re working on that.”
“That isn’t a time.”
“No.”
I appreciated him less for that answer, which probably meant it was the right one.
Someone knocked again.
Three gentle taps.
Flynn.
“Evelyn?”
Daniel immediately whispered, “Close the panel.”
I pushed it shut.
The green light disappeared.
For several seconds, I sat on the carpet listening to my husband breathe on the other side of the door.
Then Flynn said, “I brought you ginger tea.”
I got up too quickly.
Black dots crowded my vision.
I waited until they cleared, unlocked the secondary latch, then the main lock.
Before opening the door, I pinched my cheeks hard enough to bring color into them.
Flynn stood outside carrying a silver tray.
He had changed for dinner.
Navy trousers, white shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms.
No shoes.
He looked handsome in the careless way that had once made strangers assume he came from money.
Behind him, the corridor was empty.
“You locked both locks?”
He smiled as he asked it.
I made myself shrug.
“I was throwing up.”
“Poor thing.”
He stepped forward.
I moved aside.
Every nerve in my body screamed at the mistake.
Flynn entered our room.
He placed the tray on the small table by the windows.
Tea.
Crackers.
Honey.
And beside the cup, two white pills.
He glanced toward the bathroom.
“You really got sick?”
“Do you need proof?”
He laughed.
There it was again, that easy warmth.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
I climbed onto the bed and pulled the sheet over my legs because they were trembling.
Flynn sat beside me.
His hand touched my forehead.
I nearly recoiled.
Instead I closed my eyes.
“You’re clammy.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
His thumb brushed my temple.
At our wedding, that same hand had shaken when he slid the ring onto my finger.
I had thought the tremor meant he was overwhelmed.
Now I wondered whether he had been nervous about marrying me or nervous about what came afterward.
“Drink some tea.”
“I don’t want anything.”
“It’ll settle your stomach.”
“I said no.”
His hand stopped moving.
For half a second, the room changed.
Then his smile returned.
“Okay.”
He picked up one of the pills.
“But take these.”
My pulse climbed.
“They made me feel worse.”
“They’re prescription strength.”
“Whose prescription?”
He blinked.
The mistake was tiny.
So was the pause afterward.
“Mine.”
“For seasickness?”
“From a trip last year.”
I looked at the pill between his fingers.
There was no imprint on the side facing me.
“Put it there.”
“Ev.”
“I’ll take it after the tea.”
He studied me.
I let my eyelids droop.
The drugs helped with that performance.
Eventually, he placed both pills beside the cup.
“You scared me today.”
“Why?”
“You disappeared.”
“I went upstairs.”
“I know, but nobody saw you.”
The words landed differently now.
Nobody saw you.
Not I couldn’t find you.
Not I was worried.
He had been checking witnesses.
I scratched lightly at the sheet so he would not see my fingers tighten.
“Maybe I should wear a bell.”
Flynn smiled.
“That would be cute.”
He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
I smelled the champagne on his breath.
“Rest.”
“Where are you going?”
“Dinner with Mom and Dad.”
Of course.
He reached the door before turning back.
“And, Evelyn?”
I looked at him.
“Don’t lock both locks again.”
He kept smiling.
“In case you faint and I need to get in.”
The door closed behind him.
I waited.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Then I crossed the room and locked both locks.
The hidden panel glowed green when I opened it.
“Daniel.”
“I’m here.”
“He brought pills.”
“Can you preserve them?”
I looked at the white tablets.
“Yes.”
“Don’t touch them with wet hands, and don’t dispose of them.”
I found an unused jewelry pouch in my suitcase and tipped the pills into it without touching them directly.
My hands shook so badly that one tablet bounced onto the carpet.
I stared at it as though it might explode.
It had landed near Flynn’s discarded sock.
May you like
The ordinary ugliness of the sock offended me.
I picked up the pill with a folded tissue and sealed both tablets away.
