The interior lights had already been switched on, casting a warm, golden glow through the cabin windows.
Addy stepped inside slowly and stopped dead in her tracks.
The main cabin looked like a high-end apartment that had simply decided to float. Sleek leather seating was paired with dark wood. There was a bar built seamlessly into the wall, I knew to already be fully stocked.
Addy turned her head slowly, taking everything in with wide eyes.
“Why,” she asked faintly, “is there a staircase?”
“For the upper deck,” Kyrill answered, unhelpfully, popping out of nowhere and making her jump.
She pointed toward a hallway. “And what’s down there?”
“Bedrooms,” he explained.
Plural.
She spun toward me. “Bedrooms.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Not like we’ve been on any boats recently, so this one’s as new to me as it is to you.”
“Yeah, right.” Addy scoffed, making me smile.
Her eyes drifted back to the bar, which was lined with crystal glasses and decanters containing the kind of liquor not coming with twist caps.
She approached it like she was inspecting an exhibition at a museum. “This is so fucking crazy.”
I closed the distance between us without rushing. “You’re overreacting.”
A hysterical little laugh burst out of her. “I’munderreacting. I should be screaming.”
“If it makes you feel better, go ahead.”
Addy turned to face me again, her eyes wide, but not with fear. Then she ran a hand through her long, dark hair.
“Do you have, like … staff?”
“No.”
“Crew?”
“No.”
“Rotational maritime associates?”
I stared at her while Kyrill made a choking sound behind me.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice dramatically. “If I open one of these doors and there’s drugs, firearms, or a body behind it, I’m jumping overboard.”
“You won’t.”
Not because there wouldn't be any, but because she wouldn’t find them.
“Why does that not reassure me in the slightest?” she huffed.