Sebastian and June were not at the buffet. The lunch rush was over and only a few old people sat at the tables.
The elevators were slow, because old people in wheelchairs and on power scooters were always getting in and out. So they ran down the carpeted stairs to their own deck, dodging old people, and raced along the corridor. They didn’t have their key cards, so they knocked at Marcus’s door, out of breath, but no one answered. Then they knocked at Penny’s door.
After a moment’s pause, her father’s muffled voice called, “Who is it?”
“It’s me!”
There was another pause. Her mother opened the door a crack, in a bathrobe. Her hair was messier than usual. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the Kids’ Club?”
“Were you napping?”
“Yes,” her mother said.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Is everything all right?” her mother asked.
“Is it just you and Dad in there?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Penny said. “Okay. We’ll go back to the Kids’ Club.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes.”
“And the little ones?”
“Yes.” It was probably true. As long as they didn’t climb over the railings—which no one would anyway, because it made your stomach do crazy flips just to put your feet on the lowest rung—nothing was going to happen.
“Then we’ll see you later,” her mother said. “Go straight back to the Kids’ Club.” The door closed with a click.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” Marcus whispered, as they headed back down the corridor.
“Because they’re napping,” Penny said. She knew there was something else going on, and she didn’t. “Let’s try the tennis court!”
They ran back up the staircase, to the very top of the ship. The court was smaller than for normal tennis, and had nets around it to keep the balls from flying into the sea. The racquets were flat and wooden, with little holes to let the air through. Penny and Marcus were both breathing hard by the time they got there.
The family from Argentina was playing doubles. The brother, Hector, was about to serve, his dark gold hair pushed back from his forehead. Penny watched his long, tan arm go up, and the swing of his racquet coming down. His sister whacked it back to him across the net. Their father’s silver hair was damp with sweat. Their mother wore necklaces and bracelets with big colored stones in them. A jeweled family. Penny thought they looked like royalty. Hector and his mother won the point.
When the ball was dead, Penny asked, “Have you seen my little brother, and June?”
They hadn’t. Hector walked over. “Did you try the basketball court?”
Penny felt a little dizzy, with his kind eyes looking down at her. Her stomach did one of those flips. “No.”
They tried the basketball court, where the Filipino crewmen played at night. No one was there.
They checked all three swimming pools, even the one where kids weren’t allowed. Penny experienced a thrill of fear, not entirely unpleasant, at the idea of seeing Sebastian’s blond hair at the bottom of a pool, beneath the rippling water, like pale seaweed. She would have to dive in and swim to the bottom, through the blue silence. Then she would pull him up into the sunlight above. She was a good swimmer, with a strong kick. She longed to rescue someone. Would there be hope for Sebastian, underwater so long? She shivered, delighted and horrified. He would lie motionless on the deck, and then he would cough and start to breathe.
But Sebastian and June weren’t in the pools or the hot tubs.
The Russian steward, Yuri, was working in the humid glassed-in spa café. “Ah, the little astronaut,” he said to Marcus, and he patted his hair.
Marcus flinched. “We’re looking for my sister,” he said. “And Penny’s brother.”
Yuri frowned. “When did you see them?”
“At lunch,” Penny said. “They didn’t check back into the Kids’ Club.”
“I call security,” Yuri said.
“No!” Penny said. “They’ll tell our parents!”
Yuri raised his bushy black eyebrows. “Yes, of course.”
A security officer in a white uniform and a white belt answered the call. He led Penny and Marcus to a huge cabin at the end of their own corridor. It was enormous, with a shiny black grand piano, and a bar with a green glass top. This must be where the rich people stayed. Sebastian and June were outside on the big balcony, on the other side of the sliding glass door. A kneeling man in coveralls was doing something with a screwdriver to the door’s lower track.
Sebastian and June pounded on the glass with their flat palms.
“Tell them to stop that,” the security officer said.
“Shh!” Penny said, making gestures and waving. “It’s okay!”
The little ones calmed down and returned to watching the man work, through the glass.
The security officer said the children must have wandered into the suite, which had the door open. But the workman coming to fix the slider had been delayed, and the children had gone out through the balcony door. It had slid shut behind them and stuck.
“We’re not supposed to be alone on our balcony,” Penny reported. “My mother doesn’t think it’s safe.”
“That’s true,” the security officer said. “She could keep better track of her children.”
“It’s not her fault,” Penny said, feeling loyal. “They were supposed to be at the Kids’ Club.”
The man in coveralls got the sliding door open, and Sebastian and June tumbled into the cabin, talking over each other. They’d gone in to see the piano and then they wanted to see if there were dolphins, because someone said there were dolphins, and the door got stuck, and they had shouted and shouted for so long before anyone came. And now they were hungry. Could they go to the buffet?
“First, we go to see your parents,” the security officer said.
“They’re taking a nap,” Penny said.
The officer raised his eyebrows. “Time to wake up.”
So they all trooped off to the cabin. The officer rapped loudly on the door, and Penny’s mother answered—dressed, to Penny’s relief. Her hair was only a normal amount of messy. Sebastian charged into her arms. Nora and Raymond arrived next, in gym clothes. There were apologies, and a few belated tears.
“How did you get out of the Kids’ Club?” her mother asked.
“We said we were looking for Sebastian and June,” Penny said.
“But how did you not notice they weren’t there?”
“We did!” Penny said. “And we went looking for them!”
Penny’s dad said that if they only had a grand piano in their suite, none of this would have happened. The security officer laughed and everything was all right.
Her mother lifted Sebastian’s shirt to check his glucose monitor. “Okay, guys,” she said, “let’s go get a snack.”
4.
NOEMI WAS TEN, but she was small for her age. She lived with her grandmother in a house with a corrugated steel roof and three rooms: kitchen, living room, and the bedroom they shared. An outhouse across the backyard. She hadn’t seen her parents in two years. They lived in Nueva York.
Her grandmother was old, and she was tired of taking care of Noemi. She said it was too hard. Noemi’s parents sent money, but by the end of the month there was no food. Sometimes the neighbors helped, but sometimes they had no food, either. Her grandmother couldn’t read, so she couldn’t help Noemi with her schoolwork. Noemi tried to teach her to read, but her grandmother said it was too late. It was better that Noemi go to her parents. There she would go to an American school, and learn. Her parents could help, and feed her better. Noemi said her parents might stop sending money, if she went, but her grandmother said that didn’t matter.