“Then we find out.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“You need to be removed from this vessel.”
“Can you contact my father?”
“I can try through the engineering emergency band.”
“Do that.”
“And Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Do not go back to your cabin.”
I almost laughed.
“My husband will notice.”
“Good.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“He needs to think the drugs are still working.”
That was the first real plan.
The nurse examined me twenty minutes later inside a locked crew pantry.
Her name was Mara.
She looked furious.
Not frightened anymore.
Furious.
“I told Adrian the dosage was unsafe.”
“What dosage?”
She showed me two tablet types.
One was a prescription sleep medication.
The other was a strong antihistamine with sedating effects.
Taken together, they could explain my dizziness and confusion.
Not some exotic poison.
Something worse in a way.
Ordinary medicine misused deliberately.
“Could this kill me?”
“Possibly in combination with alcohol, dehydration or a fall.”
I thought of the yacht.
Stairs.
Water.
Deck rails.
That did not feel accidental.
Mara drew blood.
Then said:
“He also asked me whether prolonged sedation could create temporary memory gaps.”
Cold moved through me.
“What did you say?”
“I asked why.”
“And?”
“He laughed.”
I stared at the floor.
The captain wanted to turn the Mercer Star toward the nearest public harbor immediately.
I refused for another reason now.
If Adrian intended to do more than make me sick, we needed proof.
Not suspicions.
Not a medical log he could blame on clerical mistakes.
So I returned to our suite.
Adrian was awake.
Sitting on the edge of the bed.
He looked concerned.
Of course.
“Where were you?”
I leaned against the doorway deliberately.
“Bathroom.”
“For thirty minutes?”
“I got lost.”
