Vivienne’s smile collapsed, and she lunged for my sleeve. “Gloria, please, we can discuss this privately,” she hissed in a suddenly sugary voice. Around us, a hundred passengers had stopped eating. Rosa stood frozen, the replacement salad trembling in her hands, while Brandon sank into his chair and gripped the edge of the table.

Then Henry crossed the dining room with a thin folder under his arm, a security officer close behind him. “Gloria,” he said quietly, “our fraud office flagged this booking an hour ago. The card that paid for their cruise is in your name.” The color left Brandon’s face. Vivienne whispered, “It is not what it looks like.” Henry opened the folder, and at the bottom of the first page sat a signature I had never written.