The room is so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat.

The pink dagger still glints in the air between us. My mouth goes dry.

Then Mom suddenly screams, “Captain, please! It’s me, your loyal mate!”

I flinch at the sound. What?

The woman in pink, my aunt, apparently narrows her eyes, the dagger steady. “How do I know it’s you?” she says, voice sharp and suspicious.

Mom’s lips twitch into a grin. “Hipity hop, hipity hop, I’m a pretty girl with a pretty sister!”

The words are ...