I begin to protest, but the truth stares me in the face. Ba had put us in jeopardy—our savings, our home, Mum’s health. His intentions might have been good, but even when his schemes profited, catastrophe always seemed to wait around the next corner, like a thief with a bludgeon. And every time he got into a tight spot, we had to save the family, slipping our takes into the cracked teapot, bandaging each other up when the going got rough.

“I wish I could’ve done better by her,” Jamie says quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Stuck up for her more. Stood up to Ba. I’d see him take the money from the teapot when she wasn’t looking. Why didn’t I ever say anything?”

No wonder Jamie is so angry. Family saves family, but we couldn’t save Mum. As I watch him biting his lip, hurting from somewhere deeper inside, I sway, but not because of the movement of the ship.

The person Jamie can’t forgive isn’t Ba.

It’s himself.

“We were just kids,” I say.

The shadows hide his face, but I can smell his ache, as sharp as the briny sea.

“Well, if you’re going to blame yourself, you’d better blame me, too, you guilt hog. In fact, why don’t we throw some extra lifesavers around our necks, just to make it extra hard to move? Because I could really use more things to weigh me down. What about you?”

He glowers at me, and I reflect it back. Then I finish retying his arm, and we set off again.

The rush of the water snarls in our ears even before we get to E-Deck. By the time we reach the Collar, seawater has already filled the corridor, at least waist high. Room 14 lies just around the corner.

I cry out at the cold, and Jamie hisses.

“Think about, I dunno, summer,” I grumble, pulling the lifesaver down to my waist. We move as if walking in thick mud, each step requiring the whole body. Holding up our arms, we slog forward as if we’re coming to Jesus.

Most of the doors are closed. Objects float by: a child’s cap—fortunately, not Wink’s—a ball like the sort I saw in the barbershop. A roiling scrap of white grabs at my waist—a towel. I quickly pluck it off as if it were a dead animal, and let it sail away.

“Summer in London isn’t exactly warm.”

“Fine, imagine the desert.”

“Hard to imagine a place you’ve never been to.”

“Well, aren’t you a nelly naysayer, rabbitin’ on, all gloom and doom.”

“You always mouth off at the worst times.”