He glances up from the script. “Do you have any questions?”
“Are we really going to be locked in?” I ask.
“No, but if you open the door without the code, then the game will end and you’ll lose. I can see and hear your room from the front desk, so if you need something just holler.”
He opens the door, and Tanner leads me into a long, white hallway, still holding my hand. The door clicks closed, and sixty-minutes appears on the countdown clock by the door.
“Alright, it’s game time,” Tanner says, looking around the space. The hall is set up to look like an art gallery. Five framed canvases line each side of the hallway along the walls, and small plaques describing the art are situated to the left of each painting. At the end of the hall is a door with a coded lock, a placard next to it reading: Luigi Albertini, Museum Curator.
“That must be the office door,” I say, pointing. “I think we need to figure out a code to open it.” Letting go of his hand, I walk across the room. “It’s a four digit number.”
“Makes sense to me, but how do we figure it out?”
“I’m not sure. You think the numbers are hidden in the paintings?”
“That’s a good thought,” he says, walking over and studying one of the paintings hung on the wall. “Do you see any hidden numbers? Because this one has nothing.”
“There’s ten paintings and only four numbers, so maybethey don’t all have hidden numbers,” I say, looking at a different painting. “Nothing here either.”
He bends down and reads one of the plaques. “All the letters on this one are lowercase, except for one. You think it’s a secret code.”
I check the plaque in front of me and then another. “Yes! That’s it. Quick write down the letters.” Tanner begins to scribble them down as I read them out loud.
We both stare at the ten letters on the piece of paper: I B T E C O L I T L
“What the fuck does that mean?” Tanner says, laughing.
“I think we have to unscramble them.”
“LITTLE BICO? Is that the name of one of the paintings.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. I study the letters, then look back at the paintings, but nothing makes sense. “Could it be in another language?”
“Maybe Italian? That seems to be the theme of this game.”
“Wait, I think it’s a name. Go read me the names of the artists, and I’ll see if any of the letters match up.”
“Michaelangelo. Raphael. Donatello. Aren’t these all Ninja Turtles?”
I giggle. “Yes, you didn’t know the Ninja Turtles were named after famous Italian artists?”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, now keep reading. We need one with a B.”
Tanner walks around the room looking at the plaques. “Botticelli?”
“That’s it. Is there a number on the plaque?”
“There’s a year. 1485.” I jump up from the floor and run over to the keypad lock. Carefully, I type in each number of the year, and the door clicks open. “We did it,” I squeal. Tanner runs at me full force, picks me up, and spins me around. “Hell yeah! Come on; let’s keep going.”
“How much time do we have left?” I ask, as he sets me back down and places a kiss against my forehead.
“Forty-three minutes.”
We walk into the next room, and it’s an office. In the middle of the room is a large desk. A bookshelf lines one of the walls, and curtains frame each of the fake windows. There’s another door, and the remaining wall space is covered with art.
“Now what?” Tanner asks.
