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We were moving away from it.

That mattered.

At the station, officers escorted Mom and Thomas to a secure conference room where breakfast waited. Nathan remained with them. My sisters joined them after Agent Morales promised to speak with the entire family later.

Ben and I continued to the evidence office.

The room was small and cold, with no windows and a long table beneath fluorescent lights. Two computers stood against the wall.

Agent Morales waited beside an evidence technician.

The technician introduced himself as David Kim.

He appeared to be in his thirties and wore glasses with dark blue frames. A Coast Guard identification badge hung from his neck.

“Miss Sinclair, I’ve made copies of every photograph you submitted after the attack on Sea Whisper,” he said. “Your original files haven’t been altered.”

“Thank you.”

“We preserved the date, time, and location information recorded by your camera. I’ll control the computer while you review the images.”

In other words, I could look.

I couldn’t touch the evidence.

That made sense.

Ben sat beside me.

Agent Morales took the chair on my other side.

Kim opened the first photograph.

Mariner’s Crown appeared through a wall of spray.

The ship had been following Sea Whisper through rough water. Its rust-darkened hull rose above the waves, and three men stood near the forward rail.

I remembered taking the picture.

I remembered the wind tearing at my clothes and Storm shouting for everyone to hold on.

Kim moved to the next image.

Then the next.

The photographs were sharper than the picture recovered from Jonathan’s film. I had used a long lens and a fast shutter because the boats were moving.

“Stop,” I said.

Kim froze.

The silver-haired man stood on the bridge wing of Mariner’s Crown. One hand gripped the rail while he shouted toward someone below.

Agent Morales leaned closer.

“That’s him?”

“Yes.”