Two burly men emerged from the building and headed for the gates. Jade and I exchanged glances as the mysterious car vanished around the side of the building.

The gates were nearly closed when the man with dark skin and sunglasses used the keypad to reopen them. I tested the men's intentions by stepping forward, waiting for a reaction, but they didn't move.

I looked back at Jade and held her hand, trying to find comfort. She squeezed my palm twice, aiming to ease my nerves, but my tense shoulders betrayed my anxiety. We proceeded. Once through the gates, they closed behind us, cutting us off from the rest of the curious picketers.

"Come," the slim, tan man urged. We walked with them up a short path. I noticed our reflections in the glass door. My unkempt hair and crumpled top bothered me. I briefly let go of Jade's hand to tidy up, pressing my strands into a neater ponytail and attempting to smooth my shirt, though it didn't work.

Jade noticed my efforts to look presentable and promptly took my hand again. Our silent communication spoke volumes. This time, her squeezing my hand wasn't to relieve my anxiety but to ease hers.

"I'll straighten this out," I whispered, nodding for reassurance. But she only responded by meeting my gaze with wide eyes.

What horrors manifested inside her head? Was she not confident that we could fix what was broken?

Mending fractures was our specialty. Tackling issues united us. Our initial meeting at a rally over a year ago, where we fought for the rights of overworked and underpaid grocery store workers, had transformed my life. That victory had cured my loneliness, especially after cutting ties with Millie.

Whenever there was a problem, we focused our energies on resolving it. But never before had she given me the look she was giving me now.

When we entered the towering building, an overwhelming sense of displacement hit me. I slowed my pace, taking in the sight of the expansive, modern lobby.

The walls, reaching up twenty feet, were adorned with screens showcasing images of the recent and prominent winners. Snippets of their significant victories were frozen in pictures taken straight from the show.

A screen even idolized Tommy Miller with his iconic stance as he gripped a bloody axe over his head before the winning blow that killed the final monster. The still shot captured the raw anger and determination on his face, as well as the tattoo of his school emblem on his shoulder. His bared teeth suited him more than any snarling Big Bad Wolf in that moment.

On the opposite wall hung obscure still shots of the terrifying monsters that had become infamous for stalking the contestants throughout different games.

The silhouette of the Witch caught my eye. Her classic hooked-nose, gray skin, long-fingernails, and tattered rags contained visible traces of her previous victims in blood. The blood covered her forearms and elbows as her preferred method of slaying was to shred her prey alive.

Next to the image of the Witch was the gluttonous troll that stood in the shadows and behaved like an oversized infant who gleefully played a little too rough with his captured playmates. These sessions of 'fun' were so brutal even a ragdoll would be unrecognizable by the end of the play date.

Seeing the infamous gruesome creatures next to the triumphant winners, hailed as heroes, was revealing. Even Jade was startled by this sight. She raised her phone to capture the view of the screens and the spacious yet vacant lobby.

Her photos and footage would serve to demonstrate to Ensemble Org members and the public just how deeply invested Arcanum was in the Games. I could already envision the headlines I could craft just by describing the lobby alone.

"No cameras." Up ahead a feminine voice greeted me.

I squinted to make out the short woman at the end of the hall. She must have come from either of the corridors to her left or right. Her dark brown skin and the patches of stark gray at her temples, amidst a nest of coiled black hair, complemented the teal one-piece pantsuit that hugged her boxy figure.

One of the men turned and placed his palm out. "May I?"

I sneered. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Jade."

"Exactly." Jade nodded and pocketed her phone instead of handing it over.

The woman clasped her hands together in front of her. "You were welcomed into my home. You will abide by my rules. No phones." Her voice echoed a bit as it carried throughout the massive space. "They'll be returned after our discussion."

I met Jade's suspicious gaze before I turned back to the lady. "Who are you?"

"I'm the woman who grants your wishes, call me Mother Holle." Her heels echoed throughout the space as she approached.

I lifted my chin, taken aback by her small stature but enormous power. "I already have a mom. She's the only one I refer to as Mother."

"Mildred." She lifted an eyebrow.

"How do you know that?" Jade narrowed her eyes warily.

"You and your sister, Millicent or 'Millie,' were named after her," she went on. "Your mother named you, in fact. And now she resides up north with your father."

"How—?"

"Before I can answer any more questions, I need you to hand over your phones." She paused feet away. Possibly reading the unease written on our faces, she added, "We'll promptly return them upon conclusion of our conversation."

Reluctantly, we handed our phones to our escorts who slipped them inside the breast pockets of their tailored jackets.

"So, you already know my sister lied about her identity?" I was thankful I didn't have to explain, but before relief could settle, unease washed over me.

"Correct." She nodded. "And we're determined to fix that error."

"Good!" Jade's eyes brightened and a relieved smile curled her lips. "That's all we wanted."

"So," Mother Holle stopped short of arm's length, staring directly at me between the two pillars of tall, masculine brutes, "I'm here to offer you a spot in our games."

Jade gasped. "Fuck no."

I nudged my head toward Jade. "What she said."

"I don't believe you quite understand our proposition."

"Oh, I understand." I didn't blink as I spoke. "But the only way I'm ever stepping foot inside your set is if you force me."

"Our contestants are volunteers," she went on. "We've always run the Games that way and forever will. We're not accustomed to forcing anyone to partake, and that opportunity will be extended to you too."

"You'll never have to force anyone to join as long as you continue to promote a crumbling society that's desperate to feed their families or afford healthcare instead of back-alley doctors."

"Oh, Kamila—" She sighed.

"That's Kam." I glared.

"You and your girlfriend can picket outside of this building until your heads fall off." She huffed. "Protests and petitions will not change the world, honey. You two are twenty-year-old children, naïve about the way society operates, and fighting a losing battle. Join the Games and win, that's the best way to rally a cause."

I sneered at her attempt at underhanded arrogance. "You may think you know me, but you don't."

"I know all about you and your sister." She lifted her chin slightly, showcasing her rigid jawline. "You began life together, but circumstances led you on distinct paths. While she allowed adversity to shatter her, you used it to fortify yourself. You firmly believe in passing on this resilience to others."

"How—?"

Her hands swept through the air dismissively. "Although you two went down your separate paths, the connection you crave as the 'older sister' keeps you bonded to the hope that one day your paths will meet again. This is that chance."

Feeling exposed, I held my ground and didn't confirm or deny her assertions. "That's quite some story you've got there." I glared, refusing to break eye contact in case she'd see me squirm.

"As the showrunner, my storytelling is confined to the writer' room, focusing on designing sets and devising original games. The stories we tell about the contestants' lives are real. And your story could draw in a significant audience. Viewers who may even get behind your message."

I shook my head. "My message to bring you down? Now why would you give me such a platform?"

"As I said, the viewer may get behind your message. That denotes that there is a chance. And here at Arcanum, we're all in favor of chance."

"Where's my sister?" I growled, getting annoyed.

"Your sister is enthusiastically readying for the Games," she said. "And you can join her. Bypass the lengthy waiting list and compete alongside her to progress through the competition together." She spoke as if she were merely trying to convince me to sample a piece of fruit.

Jade scratched her temple. "Isn't that dishonest? There's never been partners in the Games. Sounds like cheating to me."

"Cheating?" The woman cocked her head. "We created the games. Therefore, we create the rules."

"No," I answered, keeping my response brief.

"Fine." She bowed her head. "I guess we're done here." She pivoted on her heels and walked back in the direction she came from.

"What about my sister?" I called out. "I wanna see Millie."

She got to the end of the hall and, without even looking back, she responded, "As is the nature of the Games, there is a chance you may never see your sister again."

"Wait!" I called out, but she turned the corner. "Hey!" I looked at Jade, apologizing with a glance before pushing myself between the men to go after the woman.

"Stop." The man's deep, threatening voice was right behind me.

The sound of our shoes stomping the marble tiles echoed around me as I turned the corner to see the doors of a dozen offices lining the corridor and Mother Holle standing in the center, facing me.

Before I could say a word, a massive hand gripped my forearm. "You can't come back here." The man's grip was so tight I knew it would leave a bruise.

"Let me go," I ordered through clenched teeth, staring him down like a rabid canine. I wasn't opposed to biting if I had to.

"It's okay, Saul." The woman nodded.

Back in the lobby, Jade's voice grew. "Back off, asshole!"

"Jade?" Fear and anger bubbled in my gut and out of my throat in a growl. "You better not touch her."

"No one is going to touch anyone." The woman gave a stern look to my escort. "We're all civilized adults here. Aren't we?"

"You? Civilized?" I scoffed. "I want to see my sister."

"I understand that, but—"

"I want to see her now!" My throat ached from the harsh way the words spewed from my lips.

She marched forward, and the more the space between us decreased the more my stomach grumbled. "This is my house. You are my guest. If you can't respect my home. Then get the fuck out." She didn't even blink.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Ok. I'll join." I agreed with a nod. "Only if I could compete beside my sister. We came into this world together and we'll get through the games to win together."

Her shoulders softened. "If you win, and I said if you win, you split the prize money. No double dipping."

"Fuck the money, I just want my sister."

Mother Holle's eyebrow raised, grabbing my attention. "Come now."

"Now?" I scoffed. "What about—?"

She placed her hand up to interrupt. "Everything you need is over here."

Jade's rampant footsteps rushed up behind me, stopping only inches away. "What the hell are you doing, Kam?"

I turned, facing large, brown, worried eyes. "I have to try to talk some sense into Millie. I can't let her go in there alone and just watch her die from the comfort of my own home."

Jade wrung her hands together, intuitively pulling at her bare ring finger, and all I wished to do was calm her nerves and remind her how much she could accomplish from the outside.

Her voice cracked when she spoke, "Yet that's what you want me to do, go home and watch you die?"

"Not at all." I ignored the men at our side and the woman behind me and gripped Jade by the shoulders to pull her chest to mine. "I want you to be smart." My hands traveled down her arms until they found her palms. "I want you to do what you do best and continue the work, from the outside." I squeezed her hand twice, my gaze locked onto hers, attempting to convey what words couldn't.

Thankfully, she caught on. Coming to terms with my decision, she pressed her forehead to mine and slowly nodded, closing her eyes and successfully holding back the tears I knew were welling up.

Her heartfelt whisper deepened the growing pit in my gut. "You bitch," softly fell from her lips. The tears must've been too much to hold back, finally breaking through. "While you're gone, I'll find a way to bring these fuckers d—"

"Sshh." I ended the statement by pressing my lips to hers. I let the sensation of her velvety skin pull me from the fear of the predicament, if only for a moment. When I broke the kiss, I made a promise that was far from the vow of my fantasies but sincere, nonetheless. "I'm getting Millie out of there."

She nodded. "Yes, you are." Distracted from my gaze, she glanced over my shoulder at our audience.

I turned to meet the stout woman again. "My sister and I are coming home. Together."

"Sure, you are." The woman nodded with a straight face. She looked at the two men. "See that Ms. Jade Nelson is safely escorted back out to the demonstration. "Ms. Kam, come right this way, please." She pivoted like a soldier in formation and marched down the hall.

I took a deep breath and followed.