My chest tightens.
“In other words,” he adds quietly, “your survival is less important than whether Elliot chooses to challenge him.”
“And Seth?”
The physician pauses for a moment before answering.
“The only thing all three of them agreed on,” he continues, “was that Seth needed to be removed.”
The air leaves my lungs.
“He’s…” My throat closes. “Seth is dead.”
The physician’s expression doesn’t change.
“That is what is being reported.”
My breath escapes me as if my body has forgotten how breathing works.
He is gone.
He is not coming back.
The world around me loses its center. I force myself to inhale, then again, even though every breath feels like it scrapes through my chest.
I remember Seth’s voice, how he guided me through panic:
Breathe. Hold. Exhale. Slow it down, baby. Focus on something real. I’m right here.
But he isn’t.
And that is the part that hurts more than the wrist. More than anything Sophie can break.
Before I can respond, a chime buzzes overhead. Then a voice crackles through the intercom:
“It is time for our first game. All participants report to the game room.”
My stomach turns.
The physician steps back and wipes his hands with a cloth. “You’ve been summoned. Don’t keep them waiting.”
Knox reappears in the doorway and jerks his chin. “Move.”
I follow him, heart racing, wrist throbbing under the fresh bandages. He leads me down a different hallway, one I haven’t seen before, toward a set of double doors painted with ornate gold designs.
He pushes them open. The room inside looks like a twisted version of a living room. Comfortable chairs, soft lighting, a fireplace burning low. The chairs form a circle like something out of a therapy session, if therapy sessions were held in hell.
The others are already there. Miles, Sarah, Jared, and Emma—silent, unmoving, eyes fixed on nothing.
In the corner sits someone new. A man I haven’t seen before. Late twenties, maybe. One eye swollen shut, dried blood on his lip.
Elliot stands near the mantelpiece, hands folded behind his back, smiling like a host welcoming guests to a party.
“Good,” he says. “Everyone is here.”
My pulse skitters.
Elliot’s smile widens. “Welcome, to our first game.”
