Chapter 2: The Woman Who Knew Too Much

I had expected fear.

I had expected anger.

I had expected Charles Whitmore to scream until someone came running.

What I didn’t expect was silence.

The kind of silence that told me I had just uncovered something much bigger than one man’s crime.

Whitmore sat on the floor, his expensive shirt wrinkled, his confidence gone.

Lena was wrapped in a blanket from the bedroom.

She sat beside me, holding a glass of water with both hands because they were still trembling.

The phone in my hand kept ringing.

My supervisor.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Finally, I answered.

“Where are you, Ava?””

My supervisor, Maria, sounded nervous.

“I’m in Suite 1201.””

There was a pause.

“You need to leave immediately.””

I looked at Whitmore.

“Why?””

Her voice lowered.

“Because security is on the way.””

“That’s what I want.””

“No.””

One word.

Too fast.

Too scared.

I stood up.

“Maria, what are you saying?””

Another pause.

Then she whispered:

“Don’t trust ship security.””

I felt a chill.

“Why?””

Before she could answer, the call ended.

I stared at the phone.

Whitmore watched me carefully.

“You finally understand.””

I turned toward him.

“Understand what?””

He smiled faintly.

Not because he was winning.

Because he thought he knew something I didn’t.

“You think I’m the only person on this ship with power?””

I walked closer.

“Start explaining.””

He laughed quietly.

“You really don’t know.””

“Know what?””

His eyes moved toward the door.

“The people coming here aren’t coming to help you.””

Five minutes later, there was a knock.

Three sharp hits.

Not a normal security knock.

A command.

“Ship security,” a man shouted.

I looked at Lena.

She immediately started shaking.

“No.””

I crouched beside her.

“What is it?””

She whispered:

“That voice.””

My heart slowed.

“What voice?””

She looked toward the door.

“That’s the man who brought me here.””

The hallway suddenly felt much colder.

I moved away from the door.

“Stay behind me.””

The lock beeped.

Someone was using a master key.

The door opened.

Two security officers stepped inside.

Behind them was a tall man in a navy uniform.

The ship’s head of security.

Captain Robert Hayes.

I had seen him before.

Everyone had.

He was always smiling during safety announcements.

Always shaking hands.

Always telling passengers they were protected.

Tonight, he looked at me differently.

Not like a crew member.

Like a problem.

“Ava Bennett,” he said.

“Yes?””

He looked around the room.

At Whitmore.

At Lena.

Then back at me.

“You need to hand over that phone.””

I didn’t move.

“Why?””

“Because it contains private information.””

I almost laughed.

“Private information about a woman who was kidnapped?””

Hayes’ expression tightened.

“You don’t understand the situation.””

“No,” I said.

“I understand exactly.””

Whitmore suddenly spoke.

“Robert.””

Just one word.

But it changed everything.

Hayes looked at him.

And I saw it.

Recognition.

Not surprise.

Not confusion.

Recognition.

These two men knew each other.

“How long?”” I asked.

Nobody answered.

“How long have you been covering for him?””

Hayes stepped forward.

“Careful, Ava.””

The threat was quiet.

Professional.

Almost polite.

Those were always the most dangerous ones.

“You’re making accusations against powerful people.””

I held up the phone.

“And I have evidence.””

For the first time, Hayes looked nervous.

Only for a second.

But I saw it.

Then his radio crackled.

A voice came through.

“Captain Hayes, we have another situation.””

He pressed the button.

“What situation?””

The voice answered:

“The missing crew member report.””

My eyes narrowed.

“What missing crew member?””

Hayes looked at me.

Then at Whitmore.

And suddenly I knew.

There wasn’t just one victim.

There were more.

The radio continued.

“Her name is Emma Carter.””

My blood ran cold.

The same girl scheduled to clean Whitmore’s cabin tomorrow.

Hayes slowly reached for his radio.

But I stepped back.

Because I had already made my decision.

I wasn’t leaving this room.

Not until I knew how many women had disappeared on the Pacific Dream.

Then Lena grabbed my sleeve.

Her face was pale.

“Ava…”

“What?””

She pointed at Whitmore’s phone.

“The messages.””

I looked down.

The screen was still open.

A new message had appeared.

From an unknown number.

Three words.

*SHE KNOWS TOO MUCH.*

And underneath it was a photo.

A photo taken just minutes ago.

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Of me.

Standing inside the suite.