We needed something, anything to shift us out of the stale, quiet war zone our home had become. Nights spent in separate rooms. Conversations reduced to logistics and grocery lists. Even the silence between us had become loud.

So I started packing.

We boarded the ship on a sun-soaked morning, the breeze warm and salty, as if nature herself was offering a clean slate. Eric held my hand too tightly as we made our way down the corridor toward our cabin.

“Close your eyes,” he said, standing at the door of Cabin 724.

“Are you about to propose again?” I teased, already half-laughing. “Because one surprise is enough for the decade.”

“Just… trust me.”

I closed my eyes, the smile still on my face as I stepped into the room.

But when I opened them, I was staring straight into a nightmare wrapped in