Chad and Kiki try to climb an ice wall (forbidden). Tiffany stops to scream because snow has gotten into her boots.
Cohen and I run in perfect sync. He keeps hold of my hand, pulling me through turns, shielding me from shoves with his solid body.
“Right!” he yells, veering sharply.
We turn the corner and come face-to-face with the First Station: The Strength Trial.
A smooth wooden wall, three meters high. No handholds.
“Climb on my shoulders,” Cohen orders without hesitation.
He braces himself against the wall, knees bent.
I climb onto him. His muscles are rock-hard beneath my hands. He grabs my ankles, shoving me upward with raw strength that makes my head spin.
I grab the edge, haul myself up, and swing over, landing on the mat on the other side.
“Go!” I shout.
He jumps, grips the edge with pure upper-body strength, biceps straining under the suit, and pulls himself up with a grunt. He lands beside me with a heavy thud.
We grab the first key from its hook.
Behind the wall, I hear Joe shouting.
“Push, Sarah! Can’t you do anything right?!”
“You’re heavy, Joe! I can’t!”
I laugh—a short, sharp, wicked sound.
We’re ahead.
We race down the next corridor. Ice crunches under our boots. Our breath bursts out in white clouds.
Second Station: The Truth Trial.
No physical effort here.
A judge with a tablet stands inside a blue-lit ice chamber.
We have to answer a question about each other. If we get it wrong, it’s a two-minute penalty.
The judge looks at Cohen.
“Question for Cohen: What is Sloane’s greatest fear?”
My heart stops.
I think of the obvious answers—spiders, failure, losing the agency.
Cohen looks at me. He’s sweaty, chest rising and falling fast, but his gaze is steady, anchored to mine.
“Not being enough,” he says, his voice rough and certain. “Not deserving to be loved for who she is, only for what she does for others—and not being able to do enough to make the people she loves happy.”
I can’t breathe.
He didn’t give a surface-level fear.
