The night is unnervingly quiet, a suffocating blanket of stillness that weighs heavily on the ship. I sit by the cabin window, watching the moonlight glint off the endless expanse of water. My reflection stares back at me—wide eyes tinged with exhaustion and unease, my hair falling in messy strands around my face. Jack is sitting at the small desk in the corner, jotting down notes in his notebook. The rhythmic scratching of his pen against paper is the only sound in the room, a steady reminder that the clock is ticking.
“It’s almost like the ship knows something is coming,” I murmur, my voice breaking the silence.
Jack glances up at me, his blue eyes softening. “Or maybe it’s us. We’re looking for something to be wrong, so everything feels ominous.”
I nod, though his words do little to
