Chapter 1
The tablets sat in my palm and didn't match what he'd told me.
They were small and round and too perfectly white under the dim cabin light, and the yacht hummed underneath us with that low, steady engine thrum that made the water glasses tremble on the dresser. Adrian had come in an hour earlier with a bottle of water and that easy smile he used when he wanted me to think he was taking care of me. For seasickness, he'd said. You looked pale at dinner. Take these and you'll sleep right through the crossing. He'd kissed my forehead and left the pills in my hand like a favor.
My name is Mara Villanueva, and that night I was supposed to die at 2:00.
The suite was all warm wood and white linens, the kind of honeymoon cabin they photograph for brochures — Coron to El Nido, private charter, champagne on ice I hadn't touched. I sat on the edge of the bed in my white bathrobe, my dark hair still damp from the shower, listening to the air conditioner click and to Adrian's voice through the thin cabin door when he thought I was already drowsy. "Today at 2:00, we'll push him into the sea." His words came flat and procedural, like he was confirming a delivery time. Not him. Her. Me. I stared at the two tablets and heard the second line I'd said hours earlier into my phone in the bathroom, my voice low so the steward wouldn't hear. "This is not anti-seasickness, attorney. I plan to kill Adrian tonight." I hadn't meant it as a plan. I'd meant it as a question — is this what this is? — but the words had come out hard and I hadn't taken them back.
The attorney hadn't answered right away. I could hear him breathing on the other end, then paper shifting. He told me not to swallow anything, not to confront Adrian, to keep the pills intact. He told me to buy time. I slipped the phone back into the dark hard-shell suitcase on the bed, pushing it deep into the side pocket where Adrian never looked, and when I pulled my hand out the tablets were still there, sweating a little against my skin. They left no residue. No smell. That was the part that scared me most. Real seasickness pills from the ship's infirmary were chalky and stamped with a little cross. These were blank.
I heard his footsteps then. Soft on the carpeted hall.
I didn't have time to get to the suitcase again. I closed my fist around the tablets, tucked my hand under my thigh, and lay back on the white linens and slowed my breathing the way I'd practiced when I was a kid trying to fool my mom into thinking I was asleep. The wooden door eased open with a faint creak. Light from the corridor cut a thin bar across the bed.
"Mahal, wake up, you need some air," Adrian said.
May you like
He stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, his silhouette blocking part of the light. He didn't step inside right away. He watched me. I kept my eyes closed and let my mouth fall slightly open, and I could feel my heart hitting so hard I was sure the blanket was moving with it. He said my name again, softer this time, like he was coaxing me.
I didn't answer. I let my head tip a little to the side, the way I did when I was really out, and waited to see if he'd come closer or if he'd believe the pills had done what he thought they'd do. The door stayed ajar and he stayed there, watching, and the clock above the dresser ticked toward two.
