For a second, he just looks at us.
“You can come out now.”
I push myself up, legs stiff and tingling. Jameson clings to my arm as we step into the hallway.
A door bangs open further down, and Dane steps out of the laundry closet.
“What’s going on?” he demands.
Ryan drags a hand through his hair, pacing once in the narrow space like he doesn’t know where to put himself.
“Just—stay down here. Don’t go upstairs.”
Dane frowns. “Why?”
Ryan hesitates, his gaze shifting to the stairs and then back to us.
“Ryan… where are Mum and Dad?”
His jaw tightens. “They’re gone.”
My stomach drops. “What do you mean gone?”
He shakes his head once. “Everyone’s dead.”
The words seem to suck all the air out of the room.
“Tara and Dad,” he adds, his voice rough. “The crew. All of them.”
“No,” Dane says immediately.
Ryan looks at him, and whatever’s in his face makes Dane stop.
“Bad people came aboard. I think they were trying to steal the yacht,” Ryan says quietly. “They shot everyone.”
Jameson makes a small, broken sound. I grab him, pulling him into me as my mind tries to catch up.
Mum.
Dad.
Dead.
“No,” I say again, but it barely comes out.
Ryan looks like he might say more, then exhales hard and scrubs his hands over his face.
“We ran aground,” he says after a moment.
I glance past him toward the small hallway window. Trees press close against the hull, leaves brushing the glass. The yacht isn’t drifting anymore—it’s tilted and wedged into the sand.
Ryan lowers his hands and looks at us.
His voice breaks, just a little. “We’re the only ones left.”
And that’s when I fall.
My knees give out, the floor rushing up to meet me.
