Page 14 of Barinov

Whitmore and Lexie. Your path is set.

Show me how far your strength will get.

The first clue waits in your trembling hand.

You already have it, don’t you understand?

Clock’s ticking, baby. Two hours to try.

Type the right code or you’ll watch her cry.

Choose wrong once and she’ll pay your price.

For her suffering grows with each roll of my dice.

“What the—”

“Wait,” Knox cuts in, hand raised. “Something’s happening.”

The laptop screen glitches once and then reappears.

“No way,” I whisper, yanking it closer to me and Cade as the feed stabilizes.

It’s Bella sitting on her bed upstairs in her room on the 41st floor. She’s attached to the bedpost by a chain wrapped around her ankle.

“Is that the—” Cade starts.

I don’t let him finish. I bolt to the door, rip it open, and sprint to the elevator. Cade barely makes it inside before the doors slam shut. When we get to the 41st floor my pulse is blaring in my ears.

“Bella!” Cade yells as the penthouse door flies open.

“Malyshka!” I roar back.

We take the spiral staircase two steps at a time, our lungs burning, and nearly tear her bedroom door off its hinges.

Then freeze.

The room is empty. No Bella. No restraints. Only Razorback Stadium staring back at us like some sort of sick joke.

“What?” Cade whispers. “She was just here.”

“Fuck!” I drop to my knees, the impact shooting straight through my bones.

“I don’t understand,” Cade says as he sinks down next to me. “We saw her, Lex.”

“No,” I snarl. “We saw what he wanted us to see. The room. The mural. That sick bastard is playing with us.”

Footsteps pound behind us. Knox nearly trips over me when he skids into the doorway, gasping for air.

“You guys,” he pants, bracing himself on the wall, “need to come back downstairs. You got to see this.”

“What is it?” I ask, pushing myself to my feet.

“Just come on!” Knox yells, racing out the door.

When we get back into the apartment, it’s complete and utter mayhem. Nate and Tex are arguing near the window. Ellie is crying by the fireplace. Her hands tangled in her blonde curls. Haley is frozen in front of the laptop, like if she glares hard enough it might tell her what to do.

“What the hell?” I ask.