“Oh.” Her voice was soft. “Oh my God. We’re going on a boat? Where are we going? I’ve never been on a boat. What if I get seasick?!”
“Good thing there’s ocean around us you can throw up in.” Kyrill’s comment was dry.
“We’re going to Puerto Rico. You’ll be fine.” I tried to reassure her.
“How would you know? Have you ever been on a boat?”
I glanced at her in the mirror. “Yes.”
“That was deeply uninformative.”
Kyrill didn’t even look back. “He’s been on several.”
She leaned forward immediately. “Why several?”
I kept my eyes on the road. “Circumstances.”
“Circumstances,” she repeated flatly. “You escaped federal prison three days ago. I feel like you don’t get to say ‘circumstances’ like you’re explaining a canceled brunch.”
“They were practical.”
“For what?” she pressed.
Kyrill, entirely unhelpful, added, “Meetings … and logistics.”
Her head whipped toward him. “What kind of logistics?”
I exhaled slowly, cursing Kyrill in my head. “You’re overthinking this.”
“I’m not overthinking,” she argued. “I’m applying basic pattern recognition.”
She paused.
“… this is like, super sketchy. You know that, right?”
Kyrill made a strangled noise. “This is the part you find sketchy? Not the break-in or kidnapping part?”
I ignored him. “You’re not going to get seasick.”
“That’s not even remotely the issue anymore.”
The marina lights were coming into view now, reflecting in long, fractured lines off the black water.
I pulled into the lot and killed the engine. She looked out of the window at the boats again before meeting my gaze in the mirror. “You didn’t steal this, right?”
I snorted, and I saw Kyrill bite back a laugh in the corner of my eye. “No.”
“Borrowed?”
“Nah.”
“Are these normal boats?”
“… yes? I guess so? What makes a boat normal?”
“How would I know? I’ve never been on one!” Addy threw her arms up in exasperation.
I shrugged. “I mean, they float. I’d say they’re normal.”