Minutes later, Maris appeared, a sailor’s uniform in hand. “It’s now or never,” she urged, helping me into the disguise. My heart raced as we navigated through the labyrinthine corridors, each step echoing with urgency. The crew’s quarters were busy, but the uniform provided the anonymity I needed.

Finally, we emerged into the bustling port. The air was fresh, tinged with the scent of salt and freedom. “The payphone is just there,” Maris pointed, and I knew this was our moment.