Chapter 1
Huddled in the corner of the dark, cold room, she tried to decide if she wanted to die. She listened to the drip of the sink in the corner and counted. 467, 468, 469. They were going to come back. She knew it. She strained to hear their footsteps. There was no place to hide, and terror welled up inside her again threatening to burst out in hysterical sobs. No more, she told herself firmly and with a monumental effort she tamped down the whirlwind of terror and anger. She rocked back and forth. 470, 471, 472. Heavy footsteps were coming down the hall. It was a heavy, dull thud, which meant it was the big one. At least his boots didn’t hurt as bad as the one with the pointy cowboy boots. “No, no, no,” she heard herself sobbing and bit her lips to make it stop. 473, 473, 473. She couldn’t come up with the next number as the terror blanketed her brain. She pressed herself into the far corner of her cell and prayed that he would walk by. The key slid into the lock. Her whole body shook with fear. This was the time he would kill her for sure. Tears coursed down her cheeks unchecked, and she tasted blood on her lips from biting them. The door opened, and the large silhouette paused in the door.
Emma scrambled across her bed tangling the bedding around her legs. She was breathing hard and looked around wildly trying to find the man. He wasn’t here. Or rather, she wasn’t there. She was safe.
Safe, Emma thought as she crumpled down to the bed feeling exhausted from the nightmare. She wondered if she would ever feel safe again. It had been weeks since the last night terror, and she had hoped they were gone for good. As she made her way to her small rented room to open the curtains, she decided it was time to leave.
The morning shone bright and true as she looked out onto the Mediterranean. The blue hurt her eyes with its brightness. Emma tried hard to find the beauty in its depths, but the dark shadows of her soul clouded her view. With a sigh, she turned from the window. After a quick shower that did little to rinse away her sense of unease, she packed all of her belongings into her hiking backpack and shouldered it. She dropped the key and settled her balance as she left the small boarding house. She needed to find some cash before she could move on and head down to the local job placement office. She couldn’t actually apply for a job there since she wasn’t a French citizen, but there were often job notices tacked up on the boards or people offering day jobs on the step.
“I need a clerk for the Star Pride. Now,” said a frazzled looking woman as she leaned over the counter at the receptionist. The girl looked mildly confused and asked her to fill out the application.
“I don’t have time for an application,” she snapped at the receptionist. To the room at large, she turned and announced, “I need a body that can run a register, speaks English, and can stay sober for a 10-day cruise.”
Emma didn’t hesitate. She stepped up to the woman and with a smile said, “I can do all that and more.”
The frazzled woman looked her over in her hiking boots, leggings, and a t-shirt. “Can you leave today?”
“I can leave right this instant,” Emma said and with a glance over the woman’s shoulder added, “And I think we should be going. It looks like they aren’t happy with you not filling out the paperwork.”
“Forget the paperwork. Let’s go.” The woman grabbed Emma’s arm and towed her out the door. In the bright sunshine, the woman squinted out over the water. “Right. I’m Bridget, and I’m in charge of the staff on the Star Pride. I don’t suppose you’ve ever worked on a cruise ship before?”
Emma shook her head and was about to answer, but Bridget cut her off. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. This is what happens when you hire a bunch of lay-about French. They always think that food and wine, especially wine, are more important than the job. Come on,” she paused and looked at Emma realizing that she didn’t know her name.
“Emily Tate,” Emma supplied using one of her aliases that had a matching ID.
“Emily. Right. Let’s get you a uniform. We sail in 3 hours.” Bridget marched off leaving Emma to scramble to catch up.
Three days later, the Star Pride docked at her first port of call on the little Greek Isle of Santorini. Emma had stayed aboard to keep the shops open for the few passengers that had opted out of the shore excursions. When Bridget checked in, she was slightly shocked when Emma asked if she could be paid in advance.
“I’m really broke, Bridget. I don’t have two Euros to rub together. I can’t even buy a candy bar out of my own gift shop. Please?” She and Bridget had gotten along well the last several days, and Emma could tell that Bridget liked her. “Besides, where am I going to go? It's not like I can leave. We’re on a boat.”
In the end, Bridget had caved in and paid Emma half the cruise in advance. At the next port of call, Kalamata, Emma talked another crew member into watching the stores while she ran to shore. Bridget was bemused, aggravated, and oddly hurt when the Star Pride sailed on to its next port about 10 hours later- without Emma.