“I’ll come for New Year’s,” I offered. “We’ll do something together then, just us.”
She sighed, like that somehow made things worse.
“Your father will be disappointed.”
He already is, pretty much every day where I’m concerned,I thought.
“I’ll call him later and apologize,” I said. “Love you.”
I hung up before she could reply and sat in the quiet of my apartment with the taste of guilt and freedom warring on my tongue.
The truth sat in my chest like a secret:
I wasn’t doing this for them. I was doing it for Granny. And maybe — for the first time since I could remember — I was doing something for me, too.
I still didn’t press Accept. Not yet.
Instead, I stood up and crossed the room, opening the hall closet like that made this whole thing less real. Like I was just planning a week away, not walking blind into something anonymous and sensual and unspeakably strange.
My suitcase was in the back corner, tucked behind an old box of court transcripts I couldn’t bring myself to shred. I pulled it out, dusted off the lid, then hauled it into my bedroom and set it on the edge of the bed.
Then I opened my dresser drawer and stared at the folded clothes like they might tell me what the hell I was supposed to wear to an event that seemed to be weirdly exclusive and hush-hush.
What do you pack for seven nights in a place with no names, only one aim, and no promise you’ll walk out the same?
I started tossing things into the suitcase.
Skinny jeans. Leggings. The black sweater that clung too tightly at the waist but made me feel like a woman, not just a mediator with an overstuffed tote bag. I folded it slowly, methodically. Pretending like this was normal… like I wasn’t about to risk everything on a random stranger’s dare.
I hesitated at my lingerie drawer, then pulled out the red lace set I’d bought two years ago and never got the chance to wear before my last boyfriend up and ditched me with no explanation, and not even a goodbye.
Just in case, I told myself.
I scanned the QR code and checked the Game’s website again.
The button still waited at the bottom of the screen, patient and damning.
Accept.
Like it knew I would. Like it had all the time in the world to wait for my answer.
I stared at it while my thumb hovered above my phone’s screen, the weight of my choice pressing harder than any courtroom verdict I’d ever heard delivered.
My finger twitched and tapped the accept button before my brain had the chance to catch up, and then… darkness.
The screen went black.
I frowned down at my phone.
Did it glitch? I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.
I tapped the refresh button to reload the site, and my reflection stared back at me in my phone’s black glass.
I looked tired, determined, and just a little bit haunted.
The moment the site reloaded, the Accept and Decline buttons were still waiting for me to make my decision.
I didn’t second-guess myself this time. Sucking in a deep breath, I pressed my thumb to the screen and watched the button light up gold.
