June nodded.
“Second rule,” he added, handing her a flashlight, “everything you can’t see is usually worse than what you can.”
They started with the obvious.
The deck boards were soft in places. The cabin door stuck halfway open. Inside, the air smelled like mildew, rust, and time.
But structurally—
It wasn’t dead.
Just neglected.
“Bilge is below,” Walker said, nodding toward a rusted hatch in the floor.
June crouched down.
The metal handle resisted at first, then gave with a sharp groan that echoed through the hull.
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