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“Yeah, Logan, answer her,” Kelly says from across the room, her voice laced with sarcasm. “We'd all love to hear how something like this could be a… what did you call it? — a big misunderstanding.” Before Logan can respond, someone outside the room begins screaming in pain, soon joined by two others.

“The other patients!” Mary cries out, then takes off running toward the door. “We’ve got to get these patients onto their sides.” Everyone rushes to lend Mary a hand, except Logan, who stands there, grinning, blocking my exit and refusing to help.

“This isn't over,” I say, shoving him out of the doorway. Fucking prick. What did my father ever see in this guy?

“I should have had John put rat poison in your food too.” I stop dead in the doorway and turn to face him.

“It was you… I knew you couldn't be trusted. You're not going to get away with this Logan.”

“I already have.” A sinister grin spreads across his face.

I feel the heat building up in my face as anger consumes me. I charge at Logan with all the force in my body and he steps out of the way at the last second before I’m able to tackle him. Fuck him and his military training. Before he leaves, he turns his attention back to me on the floor. “No one is going to believe anything you say. I’ll make sure of it. You and your little posse better watch your backs. Beatrice was right. I am going to kill you.” I’m speechless as Logan turns away on his heel and disappears.

A moment later, I'm outside of another patient's room, only to find the same scene inside as Beatrice's room—blood splattered across the floor and the patient seizing. I scream for help, but no one comes, because they, too, have a patient facing the same fate.

Several minutes pass, and my patient dies the same way Beatrice did. I leave the room feeling physically and emotionally defeated. Mary, Julie, Tyler, and Kelly walk out of the rooms, and the sad looks on their faces tell me all I need to know. They’re all dead.

“Beatrice was right,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “Logan just confessed, he told me that he should have had John put rat poison in my food too. So now we know what killed them.”

“He can't get away with this,” says Mary. “We have to tell everyone and figure out what he’s up to before more people die. We can't have people killing because they want to.”

“I know what he wants. He is obsessed with power, and I stand in his way. Being on this ship without anyone to tell him what to do is giving him everything he has ever wanted. He sees this as an opportunity to be fully in control. He also said that we need to watch our backs. So it looks like I'm not the only one he wants to kill.”

“I swear, when I find that asshole, I’m going to kill him myself,” says Mary, her tone full of fire and venom.

“I agree,” I say. I look over to see the others standing in shock. Mary's breathing has intensified like she is about to explode.

“We’ll find him. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to slit his throat and take his life just like he has done to those innocent people. Logan is a monster that has to be stopped.”

Everyone stares at Mary, too stunned to speak.

“Yes, we will,” I say, breaking the silence. “Logan needs to be stopped for all of our sakes.”

We take the bodies of the patients and dispose of them over the ledge and clean the rooms up. We do this silently, contemplating everything that has happened. I'm numb to disposing of dead bodies. I can tell the others are having a hard time processing what is happening. After a few hours of cleaning the medical center, we make our way back to our rooms. The moment we step out of the medical center into the hallway, people begin shouting.

“You won't get away with this.”

“Kelly is a murderer.”

“You all should be locked up for protecting her.” The awful slurs continue. Someone even shouts about me being the cause of Beatrice dying. I'm confused because it's only been a few hours since Kelly killed John and Beatrice died. How did word spread so fast about Beatrice and the others?

The following day, Logan is still nowhere to be found. The ship's atmosphere has shifted drastically. More and more people approach Kelly, threatening her, telling her that her time is coming and that she’ll pay for what she’s done to John. Then people start threatening me, telling me they know what I did to those sick passengers. They think I poisoned them.

Slowly, people on the ship are becoming increasingly aggressive. At first, there were only empty threats. Then the threats became more personal, with little notes left in front of Tyler and Kelly’s doors demanding that Kelly be held accountable for what she did, and then there were notes in front of my door with threats that my time was coming. When I tried to hold a meeting in the dining room to address the threats, no one would listen and people started throwing trash at me.

“Logan is coming for you,” a woman’s voice shouted over the crowd, from the back of the room, “and the rest of your little group.” But before I could identify the speaker, the crowd burst into agreement and someone else yelled, “Why don’t we take them to him ourselves?”

The crowd once again shouted in agreement. I knew my group couldn’t fight everyone off. Quickly, I grabbed Julie’s hand and told her to run to the medical center and lock the door behind her. Tyler, standing next to me, heard me and quickly grabbed Kelly, and gave her the same instructions. I stepped back and tried to talk my way out of the situation, but no one in the dining room would listen to me.

At that moment, I realized Logan had been slowly spreading hate to everyone, turning them against me, just like he said he would. I made a break for it, running as fast as I could. With several people coming for me in all directions, I'm nearly tackled to the ground before making it to the stairs. I make my way up to the 11th floor, hoping and praying the rest of my group made it there safely.

The door slams shut behind me when I reach the medical center. Immediately, there is pounding on the door from the other side, with multiple people shouting to be let in. Mary grabs the ropes that were used to hold the curtains back and wraps them around the handles to keep the door from opening. Tyler quickly moves heavy pieces of furniture in front of the door and others begin bringing more items to barricade us in. The shouting from the other side of the door suddenly falls silent, followed by a gentle knock.

“Help me, please,” a soft woman's voice cries. “My arm is broken from getting knocked down. Please, Mary, you have to help me.”

“Take down the barricade, she needs my help,” says Mary, sliding a chair we just placed away from the door. I don't stop her. I walk to the side of the barricade to get closer to the door and then place my ear against it. Something is telling me this isn’t right.

“Please, Mary, hurry,” the woman cries again.