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much like the one I dumped into the ocean. Those green eyes find mine and I relinquish with a sigh.
    “Clearly, I disguise myself because I do not want people knowing I am a woman. As for the pastries, I was hungry.”
    “Those are obvious answers.” He takes a step closer, raising his chin and crossing his arms.
    “They were obvious questions.” I mimic his movement, my nose only inches away from his puffed out chest.
    “But why do you not want people knowing you are a woman?” he asks.
    I shake my head, two black curls falling down around my shoulders from beneath the bowler hat. “You had your three questions, Mr. Laurence; now you must let me pass.”
    Reluctantly, he steps aside, but keeps a hand on the doorknob. “Fair enough, but first, tell me what cabin you are staying in.”
    I smile. He still believes I am a passenger on the ship. If only you knew.
    “Trust me. You would not be able to find me even if I told you,” I say, suppressing a smirk. “Goodbye, Mr. Laurence.” He opens the door for me and I step outside, securing my hair back beneath the hat as I walk.
    I feel those strange green eyes burning into my back as I amble down the hall and turn my head—he’s standing just outside his door.
    He waves. “Until next time, Vi!”
    There will be no next time. The minute I return to the cargo room, I will be stuck there until the Celtic docks in New York. The aggravating man and I will never meet again. He will return to his lavish balls and will marry a girl whose parents look to have a wealthy son-in-law. I will meet with my parents in New York and we will go into hiding until the war has ended.
    Two separate worlds that will never, ever collide.

7 LYING
    When I return, Dela is awake.
    “Where were you? I was positive you had been caught and fed to a giant squid!”
    “Ah, to be twelve again. Such imagination,” I say. She scowls and I smile. “Honestly, Dela, you mustn’t allow yourself to get so worked up over nonsense.”
    Her brow knits together in annoyance. “At least I have an excuse for my imagination. What about yours? Lying out in that garden of yours all night making up stories based on make-believe pictures in the sky!”
    I feel my face grow heated. This is silly , I tell myself, but then why am I so angry?
    “They are called constellations! You’re being childish!”
    “Says the sixteen-year-old to the twelve-year-old. I am a child! What’s your excuse?”
    I step back, wanting to hit something, to scream at the top of my lungs! “Stop doing that!” I yell.
    “What?”
    “Turning everything back on me!” Spinning around on my heel, I stomp over to the opposite corner and sit down on a small crate, my back facing Dela. I pull a croissant from my pocket and begin tearing it apart with my teeth in the most unladylike fashion.
    As I eat, I hear Dela sniff at the air once, twice, three times. “What is that glorious smell?” She turns in a full circle before her icy blue stare finally settles on me. “You brazen dingbat! You had food all this time! The nerve of you!” She stomps up behind me and I swivel into a standing position. Her mouth gapes open in astonishment. “You must give me some, El!”
    “I mustn’t do anything.”
    “El!” She shrieks in exasperation and makes for the croissant in my hand. I dodge her, holding it above my head.
    “You don’t deserve any!”
    She jumps up, swinging her arms wildly, but I hold it just out of reach.
    “You’re impossible!” she yells. “Just give me a piece! I am starving!”
    Just as I am about to retort, a loud bang echoes outside the cargo room, followed by a mix of deep voices. We both look to the door and back at each other. Dela’s eyes widen with fear, a mirror image of my own.
    “Now you’ve done it,” I hiss.
    “Me? What about you?”
    “Would you stop doing that?”
    “Doing what?”
    “That!” I whisper-yell. “Stop it!”
    The voices grow louder as they come closer, and we freeze. Just like