Blaire stumbled back into the living room, her chignon now completely disheveled; her red-brown hair was plastered to her face, all the way down to her shoulder blades and upper arms.

Tray’s eyes widened when he saw Blaire.

“Did you find her?”

“Yeah,” Blaire gasped, managing to smile at Anastasia, who was still in Tray’s arms. “They’re waiting for us with the lifeboat.”

“Okay, let’s get going, then,” Tray’s voice was almost drowned out by a horrid sound of metal grinding – the sound you hear when metal is about to snap.

“We have to get out of here,” Blaire said, leading them out into the deck.

Anastasia hid her face in Tray’s neck when they were beaten by the lashes of rain.

The rolling thunder made the little girl huddle closer into the businessman’s embrace.

“I’m scared.”

Tray patted Anastasia’s little back comfortingly, whilst Blaire swore under her breath.

The woman darted down the deck, nearly slipping on the wet floor.

Diane’s head disappeared into the foam as the lifeboat sailed away.