44
Roger
"Hey, Rog," Thomas whispers, his voice tense. "You all right?"
"Fine," I lie, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. Molly remains quiet, her grip tightening around the box cutter she's carrying.
As we draw nearer, a distraught crew member comes into view, standing in the doorway like a specter with her face pale and hands shaking. She's a young woman, barely out of her teens. Her uniform hangs off her body, as if the weight of the situation has caused her to shrink in on herself.
"Are you okay?" Molly asks softly, concern etched across her features.
The girl doesn't answer. Her gaze is locked onto something inside the cabin. Molly steps aside. I cautiously follow. Thomas on my heels. The air inside is thick with tension, and I have to resist the urge to gag on th
