“I never knew for certain it was him,” Ranielle said, sounding defensive. “And my actions saved the show. That’s hundreds of jobs protected, plus the fandom community, plus—”
“Your own bank account, after Hitflix offered to renew the show for season five?” Adi suggested.
Ranielle curled her lip.
“But . . .” Carter said, blinking, “it couldn’t have been Louis that killed her. The Real Game Master said it wasn’t him.”
Sierra massaged her temples. For a moment, she’d lost herself. The whole point of this conversation was that Louishadn’tkilled Alicia.
Right?
But Ranielle puffed herself up, her fury returning. “The Real Game Master is a delusional hack who I should have fired a long time ago.”
“Hold on,” Carter said. “You know who the Real Game Master is? Who?”
“You think you need to know every answer to every mystery, but it’s none of your goddamn business. This isnotmaterial for your little social media accounts.”
Carter gasped. “I wouldn’t post about this!”
“You would,” Ranielle argued. “You all would. There isn’t one person here who isn’t trying to screw me over. Well, congrats—it worked. I’ll never get another job in this town after being in charge of this dumpster fire. A murder, a suicide, every asinine fan playing true detective. Give me a break.”
“Two murders, no suicides,” Beck corrected. “Louis didn’t kill himself.”
Ranielle glared at him. “Of course he did.”
“No—he didn’t,” said Adi. “The letter was forged. It matched his handwriting from years ago, not recently.”
Ranielle scoffed. Then, when she saw he was serious, she spat, “He was in mental distress. Believe me, I know his handwriting. He wrote that letter.” Ranielle stood. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. But the case is closed, Sierra. You have your answers.”
Sierra’s words vanished. She’d been so sure,so surethat Louis hadn’t killed Alicia, that he hadn’t killed himself. But now she felt like the evidence they’d compiled was as flimsy as a handful of sand sifting through her fingers.
Ranielle made her way back to the door and pulled it open. “I have a lot of packing to do, a lot of paperwork to fill out, and at some point I need to explain to my host why he’s getting shipped back to Australia in a few weeks. So if you’ll excuse me.”
Carter’s voice pitched higher. “Australia?”
Adi cursed. “I forgot about that.”
Carter looked at him, then Ranielle. “He’s getting deported?”
“Wait,” said Adi, casting his gaze around the office. “Last time I was here, I . . . dropped something. A USB drive. You didn’t find it, did you?”
Ranielle looked ready to strangle him. “I did, actually.” She yanked open a drawer and pulled out a small plastic bin. It was filled to the brim withEscape Game–branded USBs. “It’s one of these. Knock yourself out.”
She thrust the bin into Adi’s arms, then tried to push them out of her office.
“No,” said Sierra, digging in her platform boots. “You can’t do this.”
“Goodbye, Sierra.”
“No!” Sierra wrenched away from Ranielle and bit down the sob that lurched in her throat. “Why did you bring me back? And why put me on the team you were rigging to win? I’m thevillain.”
“Oh, Sierra,” said Ranielle. “Do you know what viewers love even more than a great villain? A great redemption arc. Now get out.”
She unceremoniously shoved them into the hallway and slammed the door behind them.
Carter spun on Adi. “Fitzy’s getting deported? And you knew?”
“I didn’t know the show was going to be canceled.”
