I gnaw the inside of my cheek. “Can you keep a secret?”

He nods solemnly. “Yes, of course.”

“Good.”

I open the bathroom door. Graeme is sitting on the closed toilet lid, chin propped on his fist. His look of anticipation fizzles into pure what-the-flying-fuck when he spots Nikolai, who hops back, fists raised.

“He was here whole time?” Nikolai asks.

I steer Nikolai inside the bathroom. “Yeah, clearly.”

Graeme springs up and steps into the open shower to make room for him. The snug bathroom is barely big enough for one person, let alone two full-grown men. Graeme’s eyebrows knit together. “What’s going on? Why is he here?”

I put my finger to my lips, then pump my hands toward the floor. “It’s Gustavo. He’s at the door. He wants to talk.”

“Now?” Graeme whispers.

Nikolai looks between me and Graeme like he’s putting together a puzzle. “Everything makes so much more sense now. You two are together. Felicitations.”

Gustavo’s fist pounds my door.

“We’ll talk about it later. Sit tight, okay? And try not to kill each other,” I add in a mumble before flicking off the bathroom light and shutting the door.

Rubbing the tension from the center of my chest, I take a deep, steadying breath before hitching a smile on my face and cracking open the door.

Gustavo is standing on the other side. “There you are, Miss Evans.”

“I’m sorry, but you caught me at a bad time. I was just getting ready for bed.” I pull the lapel of my robe tighter at my collarbone. “What’s up?”

Gustavo steps forward and I have no choice but to step backward. Edging into my cabin, he peers around the empty space. Sweat gathers between my shoulder blades when his gaze lingers on the bathroom, but with no light seeping from under the door, his attention quickly moves on.

“I wanted to give you the good news myself. I have tallied all the donation cards. You raised over sixteen thousand dollars for conservation in the Galápagos.” His lips crack into a beaming grin as he extends his hand to shake mine. “Congratulations.”

My jaw slackens and I stumble backward with the pitch of the ship. Sixteen thousand?

Victory barrels through my chest. I’m so happy I could hug Gustavo… whoop with joy… I could…

Crash! A shattering noise reverberates from the bathroom.

My heart stops and my eyes widen in horror.

Gustavo casts a sharp look at the bathroom door. “Is there someone else here?”

“What?” My voice is about an octave too high to be sincere. “No one here but me,” I add in a deeper register, except now my voice is so low I sound like the herald of Satan. Get it together, Evans. I clench my jaw so tight I could splinter steel.

Gustavo’s eyebrows raise.

“I mean, no one besides Walsh. She’s taking a shower,” I lie.