The door clicks shut behind us as Jack and I step into our cabin. The dim lighting casts soft shadows on the walls, and the faint scent of ocean air wafts in through the slightly ajar balcony door. I let out a slow breath, feeling the tension of the morning settle in my chest. Every revelation feels like another thread unraveling, yet the entire mystery remains stubbornly knotted.
Jack moves to the small desk by the bed and drops his phone onto it with a soft clatter. He stands there for a moment, his back to me, his shoulders tense. I can tell he’s deep in thought, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
“We’re getting closer,” he says, almost to himself, his voice low and reflective.
I nod, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Closer, but to what?” I ask softly. “Every step forw
