Brianna and I are close to the end of the maze. At the signal of a trombone echoing in the area, we’ve swapped positions: she’s blindfolded, while I’m able to see. We walk slowly but at a steady and measured pace. Suddenly, she stumbles, nearly falling. I catch her in a heartbeat, but my hand brushes against something cold and hard.

I stop to allow Brianna to get back on her feet and take a closer look at the item: a small, metal object hidden amongst the foliage. I snatch it up quickly. “It's a key,” I say, allowing Brianna to touch it. It’s small and intricately carved, with a motive resembling an Art Deco piece.

Eventually, we complete the maze first; however, it doesn’t feel like an ordinary game. The two mysterious figures have indeed put us to test. As I help Brianna take off her blindfold, I ask her, “What do you think? Would you do it again, in a less stressful environment and purely as a game?”

“Why not? Hopefully, in a not too near future,” is Brianna’s answer. “This almost felt like a trauma to me.” She notices that the two mysterious people have been staring us for a hot moment. I wonder if they’ve listened to our conversation.

Meanwhile, Anton, Kat and Lindsey emerge from the maze in a completely different spirit. Rather than excited at the prospect of living an amazing adventure, they look consumed by fatigue and doubt, as well as defeated. “Look,” says Anton in a tone too gloomy to be his true one, “Silla and Brianna have already won.”

“I wonder what their prize is going to be,” comments Lindsey. “Maybe they get to order us off.”

Mr. Unknown intervenes. “No, not something trivial like that.” He clears his throat, then turns to me. “Silla, I see you’ve found the key to the ballroom. You and Brianna will find the prize there. However, you will only able to have access to it tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? I’m too curious! Plus, I still have a lot of questions to him and his counterpart. I guess I’ll have to wait before getting an answer, because the two of them have already disappeared in the luxurious greenery dominating the garden.

***

The promised “prize” turns out to be a lavish dinner, followed by a ball night. We’ve spent the first part of the day picking an appropriate outfit, as well as imagining what the menu could be. I think this is the perfect chance to try on the purple gown I found in the early days of the project. Matched with my beloved necklace and the bonnet I retrieved in that wardrobe not long ago, I think it looks stunning on me.

The other girls agree with my sentiment as we help each other with the hair and make-up. While Kat, Lindsey and I look forward to the event, Brianna’s mind still wanders to her usual suspicions, the ones that have kept me on a precarious balance since all those discoveries piled up.

She keeps her stance as the four of us are joined by Anton in the ballroom, a vast semi-open space on the ground floor. Even though this is supposed to be a celebration, there’s barely anything suggesting so; it’s more of an orchestrated display of opulence. This means it’s up to us to make the atmosphere lively.

So, why does it feels thin and suffocating? Why is there nothing spontaneous about it? Even Anton and Kat, who have maintained their carefree approach throughout the days, are visibly strained. Brianna has a hard time eating, her eyes glued on the cameras at the corner, which she spotted the moment we came in the hall.

“I told you,” Brianna says, her voice low, “they’re controlling everything.”

I shake my head. "Who knows what's the purpose of them keeping tabs on us. Maybe they're filming us so that they keep the material in their archives for new participants to see them."

"That's a good point," says Lindsey, agreeing with me.

Anton, on the other hand, brushes it off. "Not really. Otherwise, they'd have shown us some clips from past participants. Have you seen anything from them, Silla?"

It's time to come clean about that. I admit. "Well, just a few drawings and pictures. And some letters. But no recordings. Maybe we're not meant to watch videos of past experiences." The others stare intensely at me, as if I've made the discovery of the century.

Not wanting to turn the atmosphere even heavier, I decide to change subject. "Shall we dance? After all, we just have a few days left here before the project ends. Maybe we'll discover one last thing." I finish eating the main course, after which I invite the others to shake it off on the dance floor.

***

The next two days pass by without many surprises. We go back to the common room to play random games, watch TV or discuss our potential future plans back home. We also hit the swimming pool for a couple dives.

On the last day, before we start tidying up the common areas and packing our stuff, the tension, which has subsided for a while, is back, more palpable than ever. Anton tries to laugh it off, but his voice lacks its usual conviction. Kat is silent. Her usual playful energy is replaced by a nervous fidgeting; her gaze turns to her hands more often than she wants us to make believe.

Lindsey, on the other hand, speaks up, her words measured and carefully chosen. “The key,” she says in turn, looking at me. “Did you find something?”

“Which one? The one we found in the maze?” I ask as I look for it. “Oh, it opened the door to the ballroom if I recall correctly.” I show her the key. The more I look at it, the more I’m convinced it’s unlike any key I’ve ever seen. Its intricate carvings are peculiar, almost… symbolic.

“I don’t know what else it opens,” I say, “and I don’t think there are other tests awaiting us. But I do think Mr. Unknown will be able to give us a well deserved explanation… well, if he shows up.”

Brianna stares at the key, her face paler than the bed sheet. “It’s all connected. They are watching us, testing us, manipulating us.” Her voice rises, charged with a hint of fear which, however, turns into sheer anger. “I’ve said it many times, but you all, apart from Silla, kept ignoring my worries. We’re not here for ‘freedom’; we’re here for something else.”

The rest of us shake our heads. In particular, the doubt that has been a whisper over the past nineteen days is now a fierce roar in my mind. I rethink about the messages and cryptic clues I’ve encountered, both in my solitary explorations and the ones I took part in with the rest of the group.

I also think of the constant surveillance; though indirect, it has had its impact on our perception of the project. Its name also sounds like an oxymoron. "20 Days of Freedom.” Is it a prize as it promised, or a prison to escape as fast as possible?

As the others disperse to finish their own preparation, I stand alone by the window. The mansion seems to breathe around me like a silent, watchful entity. Unlike other times, I feel like being watched by unseen eyes. Deadly, cursed eyes, not cameras that can be turned off at any time.

When I’m over with packing, also taking the precious items I’ve gained through my treasure hunts, I leave my room, only to see a flicker of movement in the shadows, I’m not sure if it is what I think, but it does make the hair on my arms raise. Is it one of the project managers? Or something else entirely?

It’s time for the five of us to leave the mansion for good, probably without ever knowing who actually lies behind the project created by POTENTIAL+. The carved key I found in the maze remains cold in my pocket as a tangible link to a mystery that turned out completely different from what I could have ever imagined.

The feeling of freedom, the initial euphoria derived from that letter that was delivered at my old home, vanished the moment I started delving into the rooms of the house, replaced with a chilling premonition. This “game” may be over, and the stakes are higher than I could ever have imagined. 

What was supposed to be just a mysterious project has turned into a quest for survival.