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As I stepped inside, I was immediately struck by how warm and inviting the trunk cabin was—far cozier than I had imagined. It dawned on me: this boat perfectly exemplifies the saying *never judge a book by its cover.* Sure, its exterior looked weathered and a bit intimidating, but the inside told a completely different story. It was tidy, comfortable, and well-maintained, with no hint of rust—practically as if it were brand new.
The cabin itself felt like a miniature home. A small table with chairs sat neatly in the corner, a compact kitchen gleamed with care, and two bedrooms were separated by a snug little restroom. The warm glow of the lights made the space feel alive, almost magical.
By the stove, the old lady was brewing hot water for tea, her movements deliberate yet soothing.
“Come, come, and get changed. You must be freezing, dear,” she said warmly, her voice carrying a comforting familiarity. I managed a small smile and nodded in acknowledgment.
As she fetched cups from a cabinet under the sink, she continued, “You can change in the restroom or the girl’s room—it’s the door on the right.”
I had just turned toward the indicated door when another figure caught my eye. The silver-blonde woman emerged from the left bedroom, her striking hair catching the light as she adjusted her fitted black T-shirt and snug blue jeans.
Behind her, I caught a glimpse of someone else—the man with glasses. He looked flustered, his hair messy and his shirt half-untucked. His face turned red when he noticed me, and without a word, he quickly shut the door.
I paused, curiosity piqued. *What could have made him so embarrassed? * I wondered.
I glanced at the silver-haired woman, and she met my gaze with a sly, almost playful grin.
“Hi, I’m Cassandra,” she said, her voice smooth yet commanding in a way that demanded attention.
Her eyes flicked toward the door she had just come from, and with a mischievous smirk, she added, “And he’s Gideon.”
I couldn’t help but marvel at her striking beauty. With her hair now untied, cascading freely over her shoulders, she looked even more captivating. She exuded an air of cunning elegance, almost like a fox brought to life in human form. Her piercing hazel eyes and silver locks gave her an otherworldly allure, mysterious and wild.
I wanted to say something more, maybe strike up a conversation or ask about her and Gideon. There was something about them that pulled me in. But my body had other plans. With my phone battery down to 28 percent and my energy even lower, I was cold, hungry, and utterly drained.
“Aria,” I murmured faintly, giving her a polite nod as if to excuse myself.
As I turned away, I heard her respond with a simple, “Okay,” her tone light and unbothered.
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Out of the corner of my eye, as I gently closed the door to the girls’ room, I noticed Casandra heading toward the old lady by the stove. She leaned in slightly, her posture relaxed but attentive, and softly asked if there was anything she could help with.
Inside the room, I took a moment to look around. Two sets of bunk beds stood on either side, with a small wooden lamp table snugly placed between them and a round glass window offering a view of the outside. The rain continued to pour steadily, and the sky remained cloaked in dark, heavy clouds. The space had a cozy, practical feel to it, and I figured the other room probably had a similar setup.
I picked a side, hung my damp bag on one of the bedposts, and began rummaging through it for a change of clothes. While digging, I came across the lunchbox Mom had packed for me earlier. Glancing at my wristwatch, I saw it was 11:30 a.m.—almost lunchtime.
The boat still hasn’t left, I noted, glancing out the window again. Must be delayed because of the weather. I mentally kicked myself for not checking the forecast earlier; It could have been my best excuse against mom, but I’d been too distracted and hungry at that time to even think about it.
Setting the lunchbox on the upper bunk, I figured that spot would be mine—assuming the other two women would prefer the lower bunks.
Then it hit me. My charger wasn’t in the bag. A wave of frustration washed over me.
*Just perfect,* I thought, frustration bubbling up. But before I let myself spiral, I paused and took a deep breath. *No, Aria. This isn’t on Mom. You’re the one who usually charges your phone at night, and you forgot because you were exhausted after practice. She couldn’t have known—it’s always tucked away in your desk drawer anyway.*
I exhaled, shaking off the annoyance, and reached for a mint green pastel T-shirt. It had a cute ice cream design in the center with the words *"Green is the new chill"* written underneath. Paired with gray jogger pants, it felt just right for a rainy casual outfit. After changing, I let my hair down to dry naturally and hung my wet clothes to air out.
Oh, right—the ticket. I still needed to give it to the old lady.
Once dressed, my attention drifted to the lunchbox. Opening it revealed ten perfectly arranged club sandwiches. Each one was layered with fried chicken breast, cheese, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, mayo, and a subtle hint of custard. The sight and smell made my stomach growl in anticipation.
Mom really outdid herself, I thought, a warm wave of gratitude washing over me. The lunchbox wasn’t just a thoughtful gesture—it was a reminder of her care and of my reluctant surrender after our argument about visiting Aunt Marie. I chuckled softly to myself, I love mom. I couldn’t wait to dig in—it was exactly the energy boost I needed.
I wanted to share the sandwiches with everyone. Opening the door, I saw the old lady, Casandra, and Gideon sitting around the table. Gideon had taken off his forest-green hat and raincoat, and unlike earlier, his clothes were now properly adjusted.
They all sat sipping steaming cups of tea, the warmth of the room contrasting with the cold, rainy view outside the window.
The old lady noticed me and smiled. “Come, dear, take a seat.”
I took a seat beside Casandra, who gave me a quick once-over before her eyes landed on my shirt. She grinned. "That’s such a cool, refreshing shirt. And that bracelet—really pretty!"
I smiled, feeling a little shy under her attention, and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Thanks," I replied softly.
Placing the lunch box in the center of the table, I said, “It’s not much, but these are sandwiches my mom made. I hope you’d like to have some.”
The old lady beamed. “How thoughtful of you, dear.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take two or more,” Casandra said with a playful smile, grabbing a couple of sandwiches and passing one to Gideon. He accepted it quietly, nodding slightly in thanks.
“I’ll take two as well,” the old lady added. “One for me, and the other for my son.”
“Of course, ma’am,” I replied quickly. “Actually, if you’d like, I can bring it to him. It’s still raining outside.”
Before she could respond, Casandra nudged Gideon gently with her foot, and he cleared his throat. “I’ll do it, ma’am,” he offered.
The old lady chuckled warmly. “You’re all very sweet, but I don’t think Bill would appreciate that.” With a gentle smile, she rose from her seat, grabbed a sandwich, and stepped outside into the rain.
Her son? I thought. They don’t look anything alike.
The three of us sat in silence for a moment, the sound of rain filling the cabin as we watched her disappear outside. Casandra broke the silence with a smirk. “So, the guy’s name is Bill,” she said, her gaze lingering on the door.
I caught Gideon sneaking a glance at her, but he quickly looked away, biting into his sandwich.
Casandra suddenly turned her attention to me, her tone casual yet inquisitive. “So, Aria, tell me—are you a passenger too? If so, where did you get your ticket?”
“Casandra,” Gideon interjected softly. His tone was timid but laced with restraint.
“I’m just asking a simple question,” Casandra replied with a sly smile—mischievous and sharp. Why would she ask about the ticket, though? It didn’t seem like a big deal, so I answered her casually,
“I got it from my aunt. She wanted me to visit her.”
For a moment, they both just stared at me in silence, as though I had said something extraordinary.
Finally, Casandra remarked, “I thought not just any civilian was allowed in.”
The comment caught me off guard, but I decided to let it slide. I wasn’t entirely sure what Casandra meant, but the way Gideon shifted uneasily in his seat made me think twice about asking. If it had just been Casandra and me, I might have asked her to elaborate, but Gideon’s sharp, warning look in her direction told me this wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss.