“Engagement? He promised to marry you? Is that what you needed from him?”
Tears slide down her face and plop onto her hands in her lap. She nods. Her voice comes out small, almost inaudible. “I-it was a mistake.”
He nods slowly.
“Talk to me about the structure of the event—the choreography. Tables? Chairs? Seating arrangements? Timing?”
“It’s like a lounge setup. Intimate. Low lighting. Little tables in clusters with candles in jars for atmosphere. A small stage up front with thick velvet curtains on either side, and props. That’s where Theo starts his performance—he appears from a trapdoor in a puff of silver smoke. There’s a bar on one side of the room. Servers move through the tables. Food and specialty cocktails can be ordered.” Emotion grows thick in her throat.
“Go on.”
She inhales shakily. “His act is in two parts. He targets his big fish first.”
“Big fish?”
“The ones where he thinks he can deliver most impact, reveal bigger, more shocking secrets. He preselects them, does research on them before they even board the ship. Primarily online. Just for background and context—it enables a really powerful performance in the moment, along with all his smoke and mirrors and stage trickery. I ... I just wish he’d stuck to the real act. I’m so sorry.” She drops her face into her hands and begins to sob.
Avi waits. When she eases, he says, “Go on.”
Roshaan sniffs, wipes her nose with the base of her thumb. “There’s an intermission between the two acts. During the first act, his goal is to wind people up—primarily his ‘big fish’—make them really nervous, or fill them with anticipation—even dread—by starting his reveals, but implying there’s lots, lots more to come. He delivers his big coups de grâce in the second act.”
“What does Theo do during intermission?”
“He always goes outside to vape, and to mull over what transpired in the first half of his show, and to figure out how to capitalize on it, or leverage it for maximum impact in act two.”
“Vaping is severely restricted on theOrchid, and only permitted at certain hours in small, designated areas on Deck 4 and 9. So where does he go?”
“The lounge theater is on Deck 12. Near the stern. There’s a door onto the deck, and there’s a blind spot on the ship CCTV—just behind one of the lifeboat stations. It’s partially roped off. The lifeboat and davits create a kind of alcove, and it’s darkly shadowed at night. He vapes there, where he can’t be seen. In quiet.”
“How long is he there?”
“I don’t know—maybe fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“You figure he’ll do this tomorrow night?”
She looks down at her hands, her fake ring, draws in a shaky breath, and nods. “He always vapes at intermission.”
“And after?”
“Goes back into makeup. For a refresh. And a drink—something stiff, usually, to ease flow. Then he comes back onstage for his coups de grâce.”
“And you attend the show?”
“Usually. Part of it, at least. Several crew members do. We dress up and also wear masks. It helps put the guests in the mood. And he—Theo is always entertaining.” The tears start again.
“Okay,” he says finally. “Right now you’re a dead girl walking, Roshaan. I mean that. If you want to keep walking, this is how it’s going to go.”
Poppy
One Day To Impact
After Poppy realized that leaving the ship in Turkey would be far more complicated than she realized, she went back to her room, locked the doors, drew all the blinds, booked flights from Santorini to Athens, then London, drank a lot of gin, then went to sleep. And since her passport details were already filed with Turkish authorities, she’s now at the Ephesus, traipsing behind the group from the ship as a tour guide leads them through ancient marble streets still lined with crumbling colonnades, mosaics, and statues.
It’s baking hot. Her face is cooking, even under her sun hat. Her sandals are blistering her feet.
She’d been so excited at the prospect of touring the ancient Greek, then Roman, city, once home to around two hundred and fifty thousand people. On top of her list was seeing the iconic facade of the Library of Celsus, along with the Great Theatre where the apostle Saint Paul preached, plus the terrace houses, and the House of the Virgin Mary on nearby Mount Koressos, where Mary, mother of Jesus, is said to have spent her final years. Also on her list were the nearby Basilica of Saint John and the charming villages along the way known for their wines and olive oil, leather goods, and Turkish delight.
Instead, she’s still reeling from the raw shock of her bizarre interaction with Lillith, and the images on Carter’s phone. It swallows herdeeper into confusion. She still can’t slot the pieces together into any kind of coherent picture. All she wants is to flee the ship in Santorini first thing tomorrow morning, and get on a plane.
