Page 17 of Polestar
The scent of Magnus’ cologne mingled with the sea breeze encircling her.
Not now, Ana.
Focus.
She frowned at how easily she was becoming distracted by this man.
Not even Antony had distracted her in this way.At least, not until his death.
A surge of guilt warred with the sense of relief at realizing something other than the accident occupied her mind.
Neither were appropriate, at this time.
There was work to do.
Balance.Focus.Work.
The port official led them to another building on site, further away from the ship.
Ana eased the tension in her shoulders.
She’d board the ship later.People first.
As she trailed Connor and the official, she extracted her grandmother’s crucifix and rosary from her jacket pocket.Looping the rosary around her wrist, she gripped the crucifix and beads in her palm, then checked her other pocket to ensure her phone hadn’t slipped out.
Her thumb worried the smooth garnet beads as she sought balance, whispering her mantra with each breath.
Balance.Focus.Feel.
Her senses expanded around her, testing.
The general bustle of the place.The crisscross of natural and human energy.
The official’s sadness.Connor’s determination.Bjornson’s concern.
She sucked in a breath as they stepped into the building.
She’d been expecting it, but it still took her breath away.Every time.
Inside, emotional energy corralled and turned over on itself.A heavy cloud.
It’ll be worse on the ship.
They walked through an industrially decorated lobby, along a short corridor and through a double set of doors.Cots and chairs lined the large room where dozens of people slept, sat, or conversed.Medical personnel and local law enforcement were busy doing their jobs.
“They arrived in the wee hours.Near starved and filthy.Some are still getting cleaned up or having their first proper meal in weeks,” the port official said.
Ana breathed through the suffocating storm cloud of collective heightened emotion.Her attention turned to a young woman curled up on a cot, staring at the empty one next to her.
Despair oozed from her.
Fear rippled toward Ana from a young man seated on the floor with his back pressed to the wall.
Anger rolled around the room as someone else raged at a police officer who was trying to take a statement.
Ana remembered to breathe.The ridges of the crucifix bit into the pad of her thumb.
Connor and the official were a dim memory as she moved around the room.
