Back in the quiet of our cabin, the air feels heavier, as though the walls themselves are pressing in, urging us to act. Jack’s usually calm face is lined with worry, his blue eyes scanning the papers we found as if they hold the answers to every question swirling in our minds. The ship’s engines hum beneath our feet, a faint vibration that seems to echo the tension between us.
I pace near the window, staring out at the vast expanse of ocean. The water glistens under the midday sun, an endless blue horizon that would seem peaceful if not for the turmoil brewing on board. “What if he knows we were in there?” I ask, breaking the silence.
Jack looks up, his brows ridged . “If he does, we’d know by now. He didn’t see us follow him, and we didn’t take everything—just enough to prove something
