Aldo
Waves crashed faintly against the hull of the luxury yacht. The sound might once have soothed me—a signal of escape, of the open ocean surrounding me. Except this time, I wasn’t on the boat.
I stood at the end of the long, lightly bobbing dock, staring out over the marina. “Give me good news, Car.”
“Well, you don’t see the Moretti’s yacht, do you?” Beside me, Carlo directed his gaze towards the empty mooring a few hundred yards away from the dock.
I didn’t turn. “You know that’s not what I’m asking.”
“The Little Dipper sank a hundred miles off the coast of Florida, and every person on board made it off alive. Except …”
“Tell me you got them.” My right hand clenched into a fist at my side, out of Carlo’s notice. I hated this kind of work, but I certainly wasn’t about to let anyon
