“Wait, howdidyou get in?” I demand, cutting him off. “I distinctly remember locking the door after you and Bes left.”
He scratches at his jaw and purposefully avoids looking near me. “My father has a master key. I borrow it from time to time.”
He continues before I can express my disgust. “It also opens the door to the kitchen galley.”
I snort. “That makes more sense.”
He pats his flat stomach. “I’m a growing boy.”
I thread my fingers through my mess of hair, pulling at the knots. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”
He sighs. “I couldn’t sleep. I was mm… fraternizing with someone, and when they left, I found I wasn’t tired.”
Fraternizing?“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” I turn to face him fully, crossing my arms. “Would I know this fellow fraternizer?”
He drops his chin to his chest. “You would.”
“Well, go on, out with it.”
“It’s Anders,” he admits.
“Anders? I—” I cut myself off. I think back to when we met Anders, how Cec looked relieved at the docks.
“So all that talk about getting caught with Gino’s daughters?”
Cec grimaces. “That’s also true, unfortunately for me.”
“You are a busy man.” I chuckle, then sober. “Is this the first time you two have…?”
“Now, Hawkins, I don’t kiss and tell,” he says, more himself again.
“You just did.”
He continues as if I didn’t say anything, “But since you asked: no, it’s not.”
“Then why act like you barely knew him?”
He shakes his head. “This place, these people—it’s no easy thing. Being with someone else who understands all of it, without anyone else knowing, makes the loneliness more manageable. Even if only for a few hours.”
“A few hours?” I raise a brow. “My, my, weareambitious.”
“However,” he starts, “the reason I couldn’t sleep is because I can’t get my mind to pipe down. Ever since we got here, I’ve heard rumblings of a spy hiding inside the Order. There’s been a scattering of names, but a few people have named Anders specifically.”
I consider this. Although I barely know him, Anders doesn’t seem like he’d align himself with the Third Reich. But I haven’t spent enough time in the company of either to be completely certain.
“Doyouthink he’s a spy?”
He answers my question with another question. “Do you ever truly know someone? Even our own parents can be mysteries.”
Tell me about it.
I rub my forehead. I don’t know if I can handle another mystery to solve so early in the morning. “If Anders were a fascist spy, he wouldn’t have driven us here in the first place. He would’ve killed us and taken the amulet. Told the order we never made it to port.”
He sighs. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Anders being a spy is the least of my worries, Cec. And it should be the least of yours as well.”
“Yes, well, my father certainly knows how to shift people’s priorities to himself,” he mumbles.
