“Helsing can’t be going to the finale,” he said, “because I have proof they cheated.”
40
Carter
Carter stepped up next to Adi, enraged that Jarius would makesuch a blatantly false accusation.
“Cut the cameras!” yelled a voice—not the director this time, but Ranielle. The camera lights blinked off. “Jarius, what the hell are you doing?”
“Calling out an injustice,” said Jarius, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Isn’t it weird, executive producer, that there’s been so much scandal associated with this show lately and you’re always in the middle of it?”
Carter traded looks with Beck, who seemed as perplexed as she was. Sierra scowled suspiciously.
But Adi’s jaw was so tight a muscle was spasming in his cheek. And he wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes.
“I’m not in the mood for mind games right now,” said Ranielle. “I got enough of that from my late husband. May he rest in peace.” She said this with a flippant wave of her hand. “So whatever you’ve got to say, spit it out.”
“I don’t have anything to say.” Jarius grinned. “You and Adi have already said it for me.”
He opened an audio file on his phone. At first there was only silence, and Carter hoped this was some pathetic joke. But then she heard Ranielle’s voice.
“Team Dread is planning to use their snag to make Carter do the dexterity challenge, which is popping balloons with darts. I can’t help you with that. But the balloons you’re looking out for are the first few digits for pi. Three, one, four, and—”
“Pi, sure, I get it.”
Everyone turned to Carter, whose face warmed by twenty degrees. She shook her head. “I didn’t . . . He didn’t . . .”
What was happening?
That was Adi’s voice on the recording. Taking answers from the producer.
Cheating.
Fitzy’s jaw had dropped. Everyone on Team Mind Hack looked disgusted.
“There are tickets in the balloons,” continued Ranielle’s voice over the recording.“You’re going to get a code on the tickets—”
On it went. On and on and on and on, with every clue given in detail. Carter covered her mouth with both hands as Ranielle mentioned the answer to the pigpen cipher. And here she’d thought Adi was a genius.
After an agonizingly long time, Jarius paused the recording.
The air in the studio was too hot, too stifling.
Carter glanced at Sierra. As team leader, she had to do something. But . . . what could she do? What could any of them do? Sierra looked positively livid as she glowered at Adi.
Carter turned to face Adi, too. He could’ve stabbed her in the chest and she wouldn’t have felt so betrayed.
“No,” said Adi. His voice was rough. For a split second, he glanced at Carter and said it again, more forcefully this time. Almost . . . pleadingly. “No. I—”
“That was you,” said Carter slowly. “Or are you saying it was someone who sounded exactly like you?”
“No. Yes, that was me, but I’m not—” Clenching his fists, he stomped off the risers, approaching Jarius and Ranielle. “Where the hell did you get that recording?”
“From your phone,” Jarius said. “Found it while you were in the fun house, sent it to myself. Needed proof, didn’t I?”
“This is bullshit. I didn’t record anything, and I didn’t cheat. You’ve seen the footage.” Adi raised his voice. “Have the editors check. I didn’t use the cheats! I already knew pigpen cipher, and the rest of the team—”
“Ah, so you admit you were offered the cheats,” said Jarius.
