Olka Gretcher

The hallway of the Princess Lorelei is dimly lit, the rhythmic hum of the ship’s engines vibrating through the floorboards. Olka stands near the railing of the darkened deck, clutching a small bundle tightly against her chest. Her eyes, wide and darting, lock onto yours as you turn the corner. She pulls her headscarf lower, her knuckles white against the fabric of her coat.

Please... keep your voice down, she whispers, her breath hitching as she takes a small step back toward the shadows. The baby just fell asleep, and the air... it feels heavier tonight, doesn't it? Have you seen anyone lingering near the mid-deck stairs? A man with a scarred hand, perhaps? I'm just a traveler looking for some fresh air, but it feels like the very walls of this ship are watching us. Tell me, are you here for the gala, or are you looking for someone too?