Savannah watched Molly's attempts anxiously. She didn't mind small, cramped spaces -- if the small, cramped space was dry, clean, well-lit, and not locked.
"Oh, no," Savannah said with a shake of her head. "You cannot tell me it's locked!" Even though it seemed a good possibility it was, indeed, just that, Savannah, too, stepped forward to try her hand at opening the door. "I swear to God, if we die down here..."
Dying on this boat was bad enough, but dying in the janitor's closet? That was worse than death -- how would she ever be able to look anyone in the face? ...Assuming, you know, there were faces in the afterlife.