Simone Dalone stepped between Alina and the crew stairs with a smile and a mimosa.
"Careful," she said. "There's glass everywhere."
There was. The deck was glittering with it, a scatter of broken crystal and pooling champagne, and three white-uniformed stewards were already on their knees with towels and dustpans. But Alina wasn't looking at the glass. She was looking past Simone's shoulder at the narrow door Darah Bray had just disappeared through, at the dark staircase beyond it, going down into the belly of the ship.
"Excuse me," Alina said.
Simone didn't move.
She was wearing white linen and gold sandals and enormous sunglasses pushed up into her dark hair, and she held the mimosa out toward Alina like a peace offering. "Have a drink. You've had such a long flight. The poor girl's
