Abby
Everything shifts in an instant. Dad has been on his laptop for hours, the red veins in his eyes becoming more pronounced as the minutes tick by. His movements are tense with agitation, and he paces from one end of the cabin to the other like a caged animal. We were supposed to dock in Nassau later today, but it is looking increasingly unlikely as news of the coronavirus spreads across the world. Dad’s glued to the news, switching back and forth between various sites incessantly. Every few minutes it seems there’s some new revelation. Countries are closing their borders, flights are being canceled, and there are reports of hospitals soon being overwhelmed.
Dad looks up at me. His face is pale and sweaty, his dark hair sticking up in tufts, his eyes wide and wild. “This is very bad,
