who asked if everything was okay.
I don’t remember answering.
***
In my cabin, I sat on the edge of the bed with the photograph on my knee. Two smiling kids. A whole lifetime between then and now.
“Twenty-two years,” I whispered. “All of it built on a lie he was already telling.”
Outside, the ocean kept moving, indifferent, patient, waiting for morning.
***
The following morning, I stood on the ship’s deck with the wind in my hair and my phone pressed tightly against my ear.
Marcus answered on the third
