“I am not,” Cassian confirmed.
“You better head on back to your stateroom. Find your lifebelt,” he said. “After you put it on, you’ll want to move to the boat deck.”
Cassian huffed a near-laugh.
“Why?” he asked.
“Just a precaution,” the man said. “At least, that’s what the officer said to me.”
“Does this have to do with the... sound or whatever it was from earlier?”
“Likely so.”
“I heard we kicked a propeller blade.”
“Ah, well, maybe we’re stuck, then.”
“Can the ship really not move without one measly propeller blade?” Cassian asked through an incredulous chuckle. “It’s an eight-hundred-foot ocean liner, not a schooner.”
“I’m only communicating what I’ve been told,” the man replied, holding up his hands, his palms facing out. “I can’t confirm whether or not we lost a propeller blade or even a whole propeller, only that everyone ought to put on their lifebelts and walk up to the boat deck.”
Cassian let out a huff and rolled his eyes. Whatever this was, he had no patience for it. He had to wait for James.
“Yes, yes, fine,” he lied. “I’ll return to my stateroom in a minute.”
Seemingly satisfied, the man walked off, shouting orders into each of the bunkrooms. He then returned and headed back toward the large stairwell, over to the E-Deck first-class staterooms, likely to relay the same information over there. Cassian, though, leaned against the wall, irritation spiking his blood.
Where in God’s name was James?
Over the next ten minutes or so, men and women began emerging from each of the crowded bedrooms wearing lifebelts. Most headed to the staircase, following orders to make their way to the boat deck. Cassian started to chew on his fingernails, his stomach beginning to churn unpleasantly. Even though he had faith in the safety of the ship, seeing other people heeding the orders to head upstairs was making him wonder what all of this was about. Had they not only kicked a propeller blade after all?
After a little longer, he spotted a woman hurrying toward him from the area closer to the front of the ship, her footsteps fast and light. Cassian noticed that, unlike the others whom he’d seen, this particular woman looked worried. Worse than worried, maybe. Even from afar, he could see her fearful expression, her mouth agape and brows upturned.
“Excuse me,” Cassian said, walking over to meet her. “Do you know what all of the fuss is about regarding the lifebelts?”
“Titanic—she is flooding,” the woman said, slightly breathless.
“Flooding?!” Cassian spluttered.
“Yes, for certain,” she said. “Just now, I saw the seawater with my own eyes. Rising up the far stairwell, the one to the mailroom. You best make your way to a lifeboat.”
“Lifeboat?” Cassian shook his head. “That’s absurd. This ship, she is an engineering marvel. She can’tsink.”
“Maybe she’ll only flood here, then, but if they’re telling us to put on our lifebelts, I’m worried it must be more serious than that.”
Without another word, Cassian pushed past her and started for one of the stairwells closer to the bow. Surely this woman was mistaken. Or else exaggerating. Perhaps some water had spilled in from a porthole or something. BecauseTitanicwas unsinkable, with a revolutionary design, its watertight compartments heralded by newspapers as a practically ironclad safety feature, one that—
When Cassian reached the stairwell, his mind went blank, every thought aboutTitanic’s magnificence leaving his head in an instant because of what he saw.
Seawater.
Halfway up the stairwell. Or higher.
“Jesus God,” he muttered, clapping a hand over his mouth.
He had to leave for the boat deck, had to find his lifebelt, had to—
Cassian’s stomach plummeted. James. He had to find James!
