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THE BEST FRIEND
Maire sat on the floor of the bedroom, the early evening light streaming through the window warming her face. She was trying to process all that happened over the last few days. The night before, the senator had tried to kill Fern. He had his hands wrapped around her neck and it took the four of them to pull him away. What could Fern have possibly done to summon such wrath?
Sleep hadn’t come easily for any of them and no one spoke of the senator’s exclamation that Fern was coming after them next. But was it drunken paranoia or the truth? Then there was Camille. How had she known about the senator’s secret eight-year-old-son? Was she working behind the scenes, wreaking havoc and uncertainty among the contestants?
The day dragged on endlessly. There were no new challenges announced and the others had left the room hours ago, but Maire was content to stay inside the bedroom, to sleep, to think things through. Now it was nearing five o’clock and she would have to head downstairs soon.
She thought of the dangerous challenges and the strangely familiar clues, seemingly veiled threats. And it was no accident that both she and Samuel were chosen for the same reality show. But what could she do about it? Suddenly, Maire thought of the family tree. The Super Clue she had won after making it through the maze first.
She rose from her spot on the floor, reaching for her pillow. Inside the pillowcase was the family tree and the envelope holding the Game Changer—that small white pill. Maire unfolded the family tree and scanned the branches. At first glance, there seemed to be no connection to the senator. No surnames were listed and many of the first names were redacted. Maire turned her focus to the dates.
One blacked-out entry listed a birth date that could very well have belonged to the senator. She ran her finger down the page. Branching out from that entry showed four male children, all born over thirty years ago, matching what Maire knew about the senator and his wife. Jutting out to the right was another branch connecting the unknown patriarch to another woman and, from there, another single offspring. A boy named Caleb, born eight years ago.
So it was true. The senator had a secret son.
She felt the heat of eyes upon her and looked up to find Camille standing in the doorway. She was dressed in her yellow One Lucky Winner gear, and staring at Maire. “What?” Maire asked, unsettled. Everything about Camille was intimidating. Her intelligence, her beauty, her penetrating gaze, the way she dominated the obstacle course. “What?” she asked again, her voice tinged with impatience.
“Nothing.” Camille shook her head. “Just freaked out about last night. I keep thinking about what would have happened if we didn’t hear the senator attacking Fern. We could have woken up to a dead body.”
“Yeah, it was scary,” Maire agreed. She didn’t trust this woman. Camille had somehow known about the senator’s secret. Or had she? Maire had the same information and didn’t realize what it meant until now.
“Do you know Fern?” Camille asked quietly. “I mean outside of the show? Have you ever met her?”
“Me? No,” Maire said, surprised at the pivot their conversation had taken. “What makes you think that?”
Camille bit her lip. “You saw how upset the senator was. It seemed, I don’t know, personal. Like maybe she had a past relationship or encounter with him.”
“Losing ten million dollars was probably enough for the senator to turn on her.” Maire shrugged, trying to cover her own suspicions about Fern, about the show. She needed more time to think things through. “He must have been desperate for the money. Do you know Fern?” she shot back.
Maire thought she saw something cross Camille’s face. Guilt, fear maybe, but then it was gone. “No, I don’t know her either,” Camille said, getting to her feet. “Well, we better get downstairs. Ned and Samuel are already down there. The next challenge starts soon. And one of the crew members said we’re supposed to wear our bathing suits today.”
Once Camille left the room, Maire found a bathing suit buried beneath a clean One Lucky Winner pink warm-up suit. If today’s challenge was like the others, anything could happen. Maire would just have to do her best and hope that would be enough. Before shutting the bedroom door behind her, Maire hesitated. The Game Changer, the pill, was still hidden in her pillowcase. Could she really drop an unidentified pill with unknown effects into a glass and watch one of her competitors drink it?
She could. She’d do just about anything for the ten million dollars and maybe even more to keep her own secret. Maire went back into the room, pulling out the envelope with the pill and sliding it into her pocket.
As she walked down the long corridor and toward the grand staircase, a thought came to her. Maybe there was a way to get the money even if she didn’t win. At least part of it. Five million dollars was just as good as ten million. If she could partner up with one of the other contestants, conspire to work together and against the others, maybe, just maybe...
But that would mean she would have to put her trust in someone else.
At the bottom of the stairs, Maire found the others standing around a buffet table filled with an array of food.
“Glad you could join us,” Ned said, taking a drink from a soda can. The skin around his eyes was the color of eggplant and his nose was red and swollen from where Camille had kicked him during the obstacle course.
“Sorry,” Maire murmured.
“No problem,” Ned said mildly but his eyes flashed with irritation. “There’s only a multimillion-dollar production waiting on you, but hey, don’t mind us.”
Maire was about to respond when Camille jumped in. “That’s just lovely, Ned. I bet the people in your life just love your sense of humor.”
“What?” Ned asked, innocently. “Everyone loves me.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” Camille said, selecting a bottle of water from the table. “It’s not like you corner women in your office and shove your hand up their skirts.”
Everyone in the room froze. Even the lingering crew members stopped their chatter to look.
“What did you just say?” Ned asked, his voice hard.
A flush crept up Camille’s face, but she kept her eyes on Ned. “Nothing,” she said, unscrewing the top of her bottle. “I didn’t say anything.”
