They ducked through a door marked STAFF ONLY, into the back passageway. It was in these hidden byways that the Abeona started to look like an actual ship—close walls, pockmarked rubber flooring, warning signs on display, a smell of breath and stale food waste clinging like a fine film to every open surface. The atmosphere was that of a military base under attack, a steady and purposeful chaos: a swaying trolley of croissants rushed one way, while in the opposite direction a bellhop ran,
