Chapter 4 - Graham Offers His Arm for the Fatal Walk
We navigated the winding spiral staircase that led upward toward the darkened observation deck.
The roaring wind swallowed the sound of our footsteps against the polished teak wood stairs.
Graham offered his arm with theatrical chivalry, guiding me toward the wide, open-air perimeter railing.
“Hold onto me tight, Elena; the deck is slick with rain and spray,” he instructed with false concern.
I slipped my hand through his arm, feeling the tense muscles coiling beneath his expensive linen shirt.
Beneath my palm, I could feel the cold metal outline of the emergency satellite tracker hidden in my coat pocket.
The device my father had insisted I pack had already transmitted our exact GPS coordinates to maritime rescue.
All I had to do was buy us ten more minutes before the cavalry arrived on the horizon.
“Is the storm getting worse, Graham?” I asked, letting my voice crack with convincing vulnerability.
“It’s just a squall, darling; stay close to the edge so you don't trip,” he replied eagerly.
May you like
He guided me straight toward the darkest, most secluded corner of the stern where no security cameras reached.
***
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