Around the main table, the lads were falling over themselves to repeat Gracie’s story, only louder, filling in details of each boat and the treasures in our packs, like they’d wrangled them in themselves.

With Grace grabbing center stage, I aimed to slip past the big table and join the food line, until Rubio latched onto me.

“What kept you so late?”

“I was with Grace. Was everyone worried about us?”

“Doubt they even noticed, but I was.”

I eased out of his grasp. With so many Smiths to feed, the kitchen had been running out of food before the end of the meal period. “I’m starved. Got to eat.”

“Get it and come listen in.” He jerked a thumb at Daniel. “There’s real news!”

By the time my plate was filled, Jenn and Breakers had joined Rubio at a table near the bosses. I’d look unhinged slinking off to eat on my own. Besides, my blisters were weeping into my fists and Jenn had raided the emergency first-aid kit to clean and wrap our battered hands. Breakers, who hadn’t touched a paddle, played scrub nurse, way more gently than expected. Rivera had vanished, probably gone upstairs to collapse. I cradled my food and dragged a stool up next to Rubio.

“So what’s the big news?”

Rubio dropped to a murmur, like sharing state secrets. “Jake brought in this guy he knows from the Souk.”

Okay, it wasn’t me he’d come to see. What was I thinking?

“That’s his big boat out there. He’s sharing a report from a black-marketer he deals with about the Mainland getting seriously ripped up by Hurricane Joe.”

“So?” I was only half-listening, focused on my food. “Can’t be worse than us.”

“But it was! He says Joe was huge, in terms of area, and it barreled onshore without losing strength after landfall like storms usually do.” Rubio tensed forward. He relished bad news—it confirmed his dark view of the world. But this had rattled him more than usual. “When you came in, he was telling us about all these camps over there.”

“Camps?”

“For the surge refugees. Set up along the coast because . . . get this: no one’s allowed inland anymore.”

“No one? Not even with papers?” Storm damage was old news. But more doors closing? Suddenly my food didn’t taste so good. “Since when?”

He flopped back. He’d played his trump card. “Didn’t know or didn’t say.”

“All right, then!” Rousseau’s voice crested at the next table. Like flowers to the sun, we all tuned in. “Let’s go see these wondrous boats.”