"The safe," he murmurs. His voice is rough, like he’s been screaming. "Is there cash in the office safe? The emergency fund?"
I frown.
"What? No. Dad, you know the accounts are empty. Why?"
He ignores me to rush to the painting on the far wall and rips it down to reveal the safe behind it.
"Dad, stop!" I run around the desk. "There’s nothing in there!"
"There has to be!" he shouts, his fingers shaking as he spins the dial. "I know the payroll came in! I saw the notification!"
My blood freezes.
"That’s the payroll, Dad. That’s for the workers. If we don't pay them tomorrow, they’ll quit. And if they leave, the ship doesn't depart."
"The ship doesn't matter!" he screams.
The safe door clicks open.
He reaches inside and grabs the heavy bag that holds fifty thousand dollars in cash. It’s everything we have. It’s the only reason the union hasn't shut us down yet.
"No!" I grab his arm. "You can't take that! That’s theft! Dad, look at me!"
He shoves me back.
He’s never hit me in his life, but he’s desperate now, and stronger than he looks. I stumble back and slam my hip againstthe desk. My heel catches the rug and my ankle twists beneath me.
I hit the floor with a sharp cry, pain shooting up my leg.
"You don't understand, Helena," he says, breathing hard. He holds the bag tight to his chest.
He looks at me, and for the first time, I see tears in his eyes. Real, terrified tears. "It’s not for me. It’s... I have to pay them. I have to buy more time."
"Pay who?" I yell, tears stinging my own eyes. "Who is it this time? Is it the track? The casino? How much did you lose?"
He shakes his head violently. "It’s not gambling. Not this time. It’s... It’s for protection. For safety."
"Safety?" I step closer, my voice shaking. "Dad, you’re scaring me. Who are you afraid of?"
He focuses on the door, then the floor.
"I can fix it," he whispers, almost like a prayer. "I can win. There’s a game tonight. High stakes."
"A game?" I laugh, but it hurts. "You said it wasn't gambling! You are taking the payroll to a poker game?"
"There’s a new player," he says, his eyes lighting up with a crazy hope.
"A foreigner. A Russian, I think. He’s rich, Helena. A whale. He plays loose. He doesn't know the game. I can take him. I can win enough to cover the debt and replace the payroll before the banks open."
"Dad, please," I beg, reaching out a hand. "Don't do this. Give me the bag. We can go to the police if someone is threatening you."
"Police?" He laughs. "The police can't stop them. No one can."
He backs toward the door.
"I’m doing this for you," he says, his voice cracking. "I promised your mother I’d keep you safe. I promised."
"Dad!"
