“I hope there’s a point somewhere in that confetti,” Adi said.
“What I’m saying is, Sierra came back after everything that happened. Wouldn’t there be, like, trauma or something? She found her sister dead in a coffin. Only a psychopath wouldn’t care. They can mimic social behavior, but they don’t feel empathy.”
“Sounds like my mother,” Adi drawled.
“This isn’t a joke,” Carter cried. “I’m going to be sharing a room with her!”
They were interrupted by a slow clap echoing through the stair-well. Bootsteps clomped down from the next floor. Adi stood as Sierra appeared on the landing. Her dark makeup made her look like a vengeful demon beneath the harsh fluorescent lights—at odds with the half-eaten cookie she held up as if to toast them. That sweetness Adi had smelled. She’d been there this whole time.
“Great talk,” she said. “Sounds like you’ve got this puzzled out.” She finished off the cookie. “You know, while you were chatting, I was thinking about our team name. What do you think of . . . the Psychopaths?”
When no one responded, she grinned cruelly, licking butter and crumbs from her fingertips. “Or the Killers? Oh—I know. TheSister Slayers. Gotta give the people what they want, right?”
“S-Sierra . . .” started Carter.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Sierra interrupted. “As long as you don’t get in my way of winning that prize money, I won’t kill you in your sleep.” She came down the stairs and paused in front of Beck, who shivered, although whether in fear or thrill, it was hard for Adi to tell. After all, this was a guy who apparently built torture rooms for fun. He appeared almost hypnotized as he stared into Sierra’s eyes.
“Thanks for the diagnosis, doctor,” she said to him. “You really cleared some things up.”
Beck’s swallow was comically loud in the silent stairwell. Beside them, the door swung open, hitting the wall so hard Adi jumped.
That god-awful social media girl, Vera, stood at the threshold, white-knuckling her iPad. “There you are! Come on, Fitzy is ready for your post-round interviews.” Turning away, she threw one arm into the air. “Everything I do around here, and now I have to play babysitter, too?”
09
Carter
“Kick It Carter.” Fitzy said her name with a hint of awe, making herwant to crawl beneath the metal lab table that stood between them.
You’ve got the wrong girl, she was tempted to say.I’m the impostor. Can I go home now?
Instead, she tried to smile as the stage lights glared down on her. “Hi, Fitzy.”
A gruff voice burst through her earpiece. “Where are the glasses?”
“Oh! Right. Sorry.” She dug the round glasses from her lab coat pocket and put them on, even though they pinched her nose.
“A lot of our viewers are squealing right now,” said Fitzy, gesturing at the camera. “To be honest, when I heard that Kick It Carter, the Domain’s highest-ranking Solve Specialist, was going to be on this season, I might have squealed a bit myself.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “You did not.”
“I did! I’m a fan. Your analysis videos . . .” He chef-kissed. “I don’t usually have any idea what you’re talking about, but man, do you make me feel like I could!”
Carter’s shoulders started to relax. She supposed this was Fitzy’s magic, and what made him such a good host, despite his utter cluelessness when it came to ciphers and math equations and basically all the things that made the show incredible.
It didn’t hurt that he was so flipping attractive, especially with that dreamy accent. Not Carter’s type, of course. She was more likely to swoon over cerebral than hot. But still. She could see the appeal.
“Thanks, Fitzy. That’s kind of you.”
“Speak up!” yelled the director.
She flinched. “I’m going to try my hardest not to disappoint.”
“Not even possible,” he said.
It was a blatant lie, no matter how genuine he sounded. Her viewers were going to think she’d been abducted and replaced by some Carter-clone. Who could blame them? When she should have been taking charge and getting her team organized, she’d instead been distracted by trying to place why her teammate’s voice was so familiar, when surely, surely it couldn’t beSierra.
Robotic cameras swooped and zoomed. Carter didn’t know what to do with her hands. She wished the producers could use her be-spoke Kick It Carter avatar for the final edit. She never spoke meekly when she knew she’d be behind her cartoon. Why was it so hard to pretend to be that girl now?
