7
“Eric, Mary-Margaret is concerned is all, and you know I wouldn’t call and worry you if I didn’t think there was a problem,” Joe muttered over the phone. “Yesterday, she went over to pick up Abby and the children, and she found Abby happy and dressed, ready to go, before she found Rachel alone in a cold bath, wearing her pajamas. Abby didn’t have a clue how she had gotten there.”
Eric stood in the air traffic control room just off the bridge. His first officer was hovering, and officers and sailors moved back and forth. The room was steel, cold, and sterile, nothing quiet and private. He had to plug his other ear from the jet that took off from the flight deck, the whole ship vibrating, and he was trying to stifle his panic at Joe’s call. He suddenly felt pulled in all directions.
“Sa
