Game

Oh, God.

“Did it bother you, playing a slave, Co

The voice, processed into neutrality, didn’t sound sly or co

“It was just a role,” she said carefully. “That’s all.”

“But surely a part of you wondered if you only got the role because you were the only black female actor at the school. Didn’t you wonder that? What if you’d not been interested? What would that pretty little drama teacher have done?”

At the mention of Ms. Davis, Co

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “I would tell you to ask Ms. Davis, but she’s slightly dead.” Her gut clenched as she said it; it was like pissing on Gi

The voice chuckled—it sounded like a rubber ball bouncing in a giant tin can. “Trying to keep up with me, Co

“Just being proactive.”

“Ever think maybe that’s what I wanted in the first place?”

Great. Now Co

“People are dying, Co

I don’t believe you. I can’t. “Oh?”

“People keep dying and all you care about is yourself. Oh, you claim you care about your boyfriend, but really you just worry about him because he’s yours. No other reason. You’re selfish, Co

“Let me ask you this, though, while I have you on the phone: Do you ever wonder why they always focus on the pretty white girls, Co

“People would notice,” Co

“You’d like to think so, I’m sure. Oh, your parents and friends would notice, but no one else. It wouldn’t be a national story. It would make the news in your little town, but even then they would give up reporting on it after a couple of days. They’d devote ten or fifteen seconds to it on the local news the day your raped and mutilated body was found in a shallow grave near the intersection of Grove Street and Route Twenty-seven. You know the spot, Co

She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

“Ten or fifteen seconds. A picture of you from the yearbook. A cutaway to your mother weeping hysterically, and all the white folks watching shrug and wait for weather and sports. But when a white girl goes missing… oh, then they go nuts, Co

“Because this is a racist society that devalues black lives,” Co

“Racism!” the voice chortled in triumph. “Racism! Of course! That must be it! Why, that’s the only possible explanation! But, Co

In a tone of frosty neutrality, she responded, “I would say that you definitely have the most up-to-date version of the White Supremacist Jackass app on your phone. Good for you.”

A long, sustained burst of ti

“Glad to help. Now why don’t you tell me exactly where you are and who you are?”

“Heh. That wouldn’t be any fun. We’re playing a game, Co

“I don’t even know what the rules are.”

“Well… basically, the rules to this game are whatever I decide they are. This isn’t like the game being played in Brooklyn. This is our game, Co

“I’m touched and honored,” Co

“Oh, soon. Very soon. But it’ll be a little tougher on you, Co

“I told you, I didn’t call the—”

“There must be a penalty for people who cheat,” the voice went on, “for people who don’t abide by the rules, wouldn’t you agree?”

The droning, toneless roboticism of the voice was begi

“Oh, I’ll tell you. In my own way. In my own time. The first clue is in that lockbox.” The voice paused for a moment. “I’m going to give you five minutes, Co

“Well… until the night I come for you, that is.”

“Wait!” Co

“Not fair?” The voice’s aggravation and anger broke through the Auto-Tuning. “Fair? You broke the rules, Conscience Hall! And now you suffer the consequences! Five minutes, begi

Click.

Oh. Crap.

Co

Or maybe it was something else. Something related. What was the word crow in Latin? In Spanish? In French? She had taken classes in all three languages and struggled to remember, then thought, What if it’s not a crow? What if it’s a raven? And what if the clue is in Russian or German? What if the damn toy isn’t the clue in the first place?

Her clock had advanced a minute. You’re kidding me. Her heart thudded so hard in her chest that she would not have been surprised if she could have seen it throbbing through her shirt.

Less than four minutes left. The desire to speed through the contents of the box was great, but she forced herself to scrutinize each item. Same three people in each photo:

Jazz. No. Not him. Duh.

Mom. Dead. Not her. Double-duh.

Billy. Obvious choice. Too obvious, in fact, now that she thought about it. Billy’s escape from Wammaket had been pla