The captain’s eyes shifted.
Everything inside me tightened.
“All of it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about Margaret?”
“Claire—”
“All of them?”
“I heard them arguing yesterday.”
“About what?”
“Money.”
That fit.
Adrian had been very interested in family finances before the wedding.
Not obviously.
Carefully.
Estate structure.
Trust protections.
Voting rights.
He said he wanted to understand the responsibilities that came with marrying into the Mercer family.
My father liked that.
Called Adrian serious.
Responsible.
I had loved that about him.
Now every conversation felt contaminated.
The captain said:
“We need to get you off the yacht.”
“No.”
He stared.
“No?”
“If they’re doing what I think they’re doing, leaving openly tells them I know.”
“So?”
“So they change plans.”
“Claire, this is not a board meeting.”
“No.”
“It’s worse.”
I thought of the medical log.
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