Page 57 of Uncharted

“I’d still like to go and search.” There’s one thing my dad told me about the ship that no one knows. He had a little something built into his cabin.

“Have at it,” Sam says.

“I’d love to go treasure hunting, but I’ve got a crash patch to replace. You ready?” Calvin asks Zane and Sam.

“That leaves the two of us.” Haley pivots and gives me a hug.

Chapter26

Dragging Anchor

Haley

Sam, Zane, and Calvin head down the stairs, taking the back way through the toy hauler space to the engine room, while Easton and I finish cleaning up the back deck. Dante’s singing in the kitchen. I spend a minute leaning up against the doorjamb. Our chef is lost in his happy place. I momentarily think of inviting him on our search but change my mind. Dante’s having too much fun. I pivot back to the stew pantry. Easton is wiping down the plates with a bucket of seawater. We’ll wash them later, using as little fresh water as possible. He’s really focused on it, but it’s obvious by the order he’s doing things he hasn’t washed many dishes in his life. I stay back and watch him.

I’ve thought about how I got Easton out of his room more than once. There’s a bunch of things that bother me about it, starting with why was it only his door that jammed? At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. The longer I mull it over, the more I think maybe it isn’t. I don’t have any family anymore. Just my best friend and a dad who’s barely part of my life. But I’d like to think that if I was stuck in a sinking ship, they wouldn’t listen to a stew who said she was going to get the door open by herself. His dad and Brick didn’t even put up a fight—they just fled to the top side. When I think back on it, I think Emily was pulling on Brick. But if she said anything, I don’t remember what. It’s weird—my adrenaline during that night has made things both clear and blurry. It’s like when I watch true crime shows and a witness says that something absolutely happened that couldn’t have. Like there’s some sort of proof yet they won’t back down. I can totally see how someone could have a false memory placed. There’s no second-guessing though. Easton’s dad didn’t fight to get him out of the room. His focus was on getting Candy out.

Easton tosses a towel on the counter. “I think I’m done until we wash tonight with some hot water. It’s a crazy concept, right? Hot water.”

“Yes! I can’t imagine what taking a hot shower would feel like.”

“Well, we’ll have to conserve water, that’s for sure. I’m willing to share my hot water with you.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“I’d like that.”

“Do you want to go down to the primary cabin?”

“Yes. This is going to sound sexist, and I’m sure Sam did a good job searching?—”

“But you think he missed it?”

“No, I’m not saying that, but my ex could look directly at the ketchup bottle in the fridge and still not see it. Not that Sam is anything like my ex.”

“I imagine not. When we get back to Florida, for his own sake, I hope I never meet that sack of shit.”

I smile at Easton, grabbing his arm. There’s a thought I’m not sure about. Would I want the guys to meet Steven? I cling to Easton’s arm. I don’t even realize I’m holding on so tight until he winces. “You know, I think I wouldn’t mind it. Have him see how amazing all of you are.”

“Not as amazing as you are.” He kisses my neck. “Come on, let’s go. It’s only a matter of time before I need to start swabbing the engine room again.” We head down the main staircase to the guest cabins.

Easton’s a few steps down the hallway when I call out to him, “Wait, I want to see something in your room first.”

He pivots back. “What do you want me to show you in my room?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“No, not that. I mean, maybe later.” I give his arm a playful swat. “I want to look at your door.”

“I’ve blocked it open with one of the remaining horse statues I found in the closet.”

“Right, I want to look at the jamb, like, was it made that way? Or did someone change it?”

“You think my door sticking was done deliberately?” His lips twist to the side and back. “It could be.” Easton runs his hand up the inside of the fitting for the door. “Here, look.” He points to a spot and steps out of the way. “Run your hand along it.”

I do, but it feels the same.

“No, higher. There’s a bulge.”

“A tiny bulge like in your pants?” Dante appears beside me.

“Yes, I feel it. A huge massive bulge.” I turn and glare at Dante because if they were all like him, I’d be dead. “No, but seriously. There’s a bump right here.” I take Dante’s hand and put it on the trim.

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