I don’t believe you did any of this for a pardon or a passage to Nassau or to be able to walk away from anything. I think you intend to reclaim your captaincy. I think you intend to take control of this ship. And then I think you intend to return to that beach, armed to the teeth, and seize every last ounce of gold off of it. And I think you’re going to need my help to do it. Tell me I’m wrong.


"So is it my turn tomorrow, then?"
"Certainly not!" His face was teasingly outraged. "I told you I wasn’t done, didn’t I?"
"What more is there?"
"You’ll find out tomorrow." He reached across to open my door for me, and his sudden proximity sent my heart into frenzied palpitations.