?

  The rest of the group was laughing now, not at the cards, they had no idea what had been swapped, but at the spectacle.

  Elara rested her chin on her hand, eyes twinkling. “Ah, sorry, Mira. If I’d known his card was that cursed, I would’ve switched with Valeria instead.”

  Mira slumped lower in her seat, dragging a hand down her face. “I got scammed by both of you.”

  It's Elias’s turn.

  Bullseye.

  Elias returned to his seat, accepting the applause with a nod.

  “Three tokens,” he said evenly, settling back down.

  Six tokens now. A comfortable number. Not aggressive, not flashy, just enough to move if the opportunity presented itself. He began to stack them one by one, fingertips resting lightly against their edges, not out of habit, but as a way to measure the rhythm of the game. It gave him space to think.

  There was always the risk that someone had noticed his path. His first dart had landed close to the center, the second, right on it. If anyone were paying attention, they might begin to suspect his objective. A guess now would cost them three tokens. Adrian had already made his move. He wouldn’t be guessing again.

  Naomi would not act on anything uncertain. She had tokens, but no reason to use them without full confidence. Mira, now holding Adrian’s untouched objective, had more immediate concerns. Her expression during the last round had been pure comedic despair. She wouldn’t waste tokens trying to read anyone else. Not yet.

  Only Valeria remained a possibility.

  She rarely gave away more than she intended, but she was always watching. Her progress so far had been stable, two rounds, two hits. If she was holding Pattern Hunter, three even or three odd numbers, or Balance Seeker, three low numbers and three high, then she would need six precise hits to complete the goal. Neither was impossible, but both demanded careful planning and time. And Valeria had the patience for both.

  For now, her progress remained distant enough not to threaten. He had time.

  Elias adjusted the notes in front of him, pen tapping lightly once before he began.

  “Everyone still in the game received one token this round for answering, plus one last round, and the original two. That puts most of us at four.”

  “Naomi, four. Mira, four. Valeria, four.”

  “Elara had three before the bullseye. Took another three tokens. Spent three to switch objectives. She’s holding three.”

  “Camille had four before her guess. Spent three on Adrian. Out with one token.”

  He tapped his own token stack with the end of his pen. “I’m at six.”

  With that, the game moved forward.

  ?

  Third round.

  Mira stepped forward with exaggerated dread, dragging her feet just enough to earn a wave of chuckles from the group.

  The dart landed on seventeen, yellow zone. Twist.

  Elias read the card, steady as ever. “What’s something you’re still not over , but pretend you are? Or draw two more questions and answer both.”

  Mira’s hand hovered in midair, eyes darting between familiar faces that were far too eager to hear her answer. Her lips parted, then closed again as she realized exactly what kind of disaster this could turn into.

  “I’ll draw two more,” she said quickly, waving off the question.

  The room burst with delight.

  That set off another round of reactions.

  “Ohhh, it is the clover boy,” Camille said with wicked delight.

  Naomi clasped her hands together, delighted. “You’re still not over him!”

  Mira’s face flushed. “No! We’re not even anything yet. Don’t say weird things.”

  On the opposite side, Adrian’s gaze lifted, just for a second. He looked at her, then returned to adjusting the sleeve of his shirt as if none of it involved him at all.

  Mira, clearly trying to ignore all of them, pulled two cards from the stack.

  She read the first. “Number five. Reveal your worst moments.”

  Then the second. “Number one. Impersonate another player.”

  She held both up like they physically hurt. “Public disaster and character assassination. Love this journey for me.”

  Valeria gave a tiny clap, unimpressed but clearly entertained. Camille beamed. Elias, still pretending not to enjoy any of it, wrote something down with the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.

  Mira sighed dramatically and read the first card again. “Worst moments. Fine.”

  She lifted one finger like a lecturer.

  “I was four. My grandfather dared me to jump into a shallow mud pond near our house. I thought it was a test of bravery. Turns out it was just... funny to him.”

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  The room was already wheezing.

  “That photo is still framed in our hallway. Right next to the family altar. Like it’s part of my legacy. And when I was 7, I got 3 of my bones broken.”

  Adrian, for the first time since the game began, spoke , not loudly, but enough to cut through the chatter.

  “What did you do to break all three?”

  His tone wasn’t teasing, nor disbelieving. It was calm. Inquisitive.

  The table turned, a beat of silence.

  All eyes turned to her.

  Mira laughed under her breath.

  “Fell out of a tree while trying to photograph a bird.”

  She waved the second card. “Now for the real punishment. Impersonate someone in this room.”

  Mira spun once in place, scanning her options like a mischievous raccoon surveying a picnic table.

  Then her eyes locked on her target.

  She cleared her throat, straightened her back, smoothed an invisible sleeve, and lowered her voice into an overly calm register.

  “‘I’ll take three tokens.’” She paused, adjusted her imaginary glasses. “‘Because it’s safer. No immediate threat. Patience is the foundation of strategic advantage.’”

  That pushed the group over the edge. Shoulders shook. Naomi clung to Valeria’s sleeve. Elias tapped his pen once on the table without looking up.

  “Unbelievable,” he said.

  Camille leaned toward him. “She got the voice too well.”

  Adrian didn’t laugh. But his gaze did drift toward Elias, like he was internally ranking who had just been roasted harder.

  Valeria’s dart struck sixteen, red zone, confession.

  Elias read aloud “Who here do you trust the most?”

  Valeria calmly said, “Myself.”

  “I’ve always been the one who double-checks the details. Who catches the errors. If something goes wrong, I’d rather be the one holding responsibility. It’s not about not trusting others. It’s just, when things matter, I trust that I’ve done the work.”

  “Does that count?” Mira called.

  Valeria shrugged. “Trust isn’t the same as affection.”

  Elias, without lifting his eyes from his notes, murmured, “Valid answer.”

  Naomi stood next, her hands brushing lightly against her skirt as she stepped forward.

  Naomi’s dart sailed through the air and landed on eighteen, blue zone. Social category.

  Elias read the question with a faint smile. “Who would be the villain if this were a novel?”

  Naomi blinked, just once, then brought her hand to her chin as if genuinely weighing the emotional consequences of every possible answer. She glanced around the group, softly, politely, as if looking for permission.

  “I’m sorry, Camille,” she said at last, in the most apologetic tone anyone had ever used to nominate a villain. “But if this were a novel… I think it might be you.”

  Camille let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching her chest.

  Naomi smiled, still gentle. “But the clever, stylish kind. The one who always survives. Especially in the dramatic ones.”

  Camille pointed a finger. “I accept this slander.”

  Mira laughed under her breath. “She’s not wrong.”

  Naomi smiled as the laughter faded, still holding her usual calm, her eyes drifting back to the center of the table. Then, without breaking her gentle rhythm, she reached for her stack of tokens and placed three down.

  “I want to make a guess,” she said softly.

  The room went still for a beat.

  Naomi? Guessing?

  She turned to Elias.

  “Your objective… is hitting the bullseye three times.”

  Elias blinked, just once, but that was enough. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The tension in his shoulders, the faint breath through his nose, it all said yes.

  The table exploded.

  “No way!” Camille shouted.

  “Naomi!” Mira half-choked. “You’re dangerous!”

  Even Valeria looked genuinely startled. “I did not see that coming.”

  Naomi tilted her head modestly. “He aimed for it in round one. Missed. Then got it in round two. It wasn’t hard to see. If you’re watching.”

  Elias exhaled with the faintest note of disbelief. “I underestimated you.”

  Camille clapped once, beaming. “Don’t take our Naomi for granted. She's polite, not passive.”

  Mira grinned. “She just slayed a future lawyer with a smile.”

  Naomi gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, Elias.”

  He leaned back, adjusting his sleeves with exaggerated composure. “Well played.”

  And just like that, Elias was out of the winning circle. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just… efficiently removed.

  By little, cute and gentle Naomi.

  ?

  Adrian’s turn. He stepped up, precise as ever.

  The dart landed on number 7, red zone.

  Elias read the card. “Say something no one here knows about you.”

  Adrian stood still for a moment. Then, with his usual composure, he said, “When I was seven, I built my first working brain-computer interface. I spoke multiple languages at four and no school fit me.”

  There was no edge to his voice. No need to impress. Just a string of facts, offered plainly.

  He turned, walked back to his seat, and sat down as if he hadn’t just said something that would’ve made most people stop the room.

  Camille was already rising.

  She took the dart in hand, spinning it once between her fingers as she stepped toward the board. No theatrics. Just clear intent. She threw.

  It veered just left of center, missing the bullseye by a breath.

  Number 20. Blue zone. Fun category. Elias read aloud, “Ask one player in the group anything. They must answer, or lose one token.”

  Camille smiled.

  “I’ll ask Adrian. Are you here because of someone?”

  The question dropped clean into the center of the room.

  Adrian didn’t pause. “Yes,” he said. “I was invited.”

  Camille turned back to Adrian. “So, you came because Mira invited you.”

  “That is what I said.”

  For a second, no one moved.

  Then the silence cracked, just slightly, as Naomi let out a small, stifled sound, somewhere between a cough and a laugh. Elias’s pen paused mid-air. Valeria looked down, but the corner of her mouth curved, subtle and sharp.

  Camille covered her mouth with one hand, her shoulders shaking faintly from satisfaction.

  Mira, however, didn’t say a word.

  She looked away, fast, pulling her sleeves down a little too deliberately, her fingers fussing with the edge of her chair. The tips of her ears were pink. So was the edge of her neck.

  Elias cleared his throat, setting his pen down with a soft click that was somehow louder than necessary. “Next.”

  Elara rose without comment, picking up the dart with practiced fingers.

  She threw.

  It landed on thirteen, red zone. Confession.

  “What do you want to be forgiven for?”

  But instead of answering, Elara reached into her stack of tokens and held three up between her fingers.

  “I’ll redirect,” she said simply. “To Adrian.”

  Elias nodded once. “Question remains: what do you want to be forgiven for?”

  “For not stopping something I didn’t have the power to stop,” he said. “I waited too long. I told myself it wasn’t my place, but it was.”

  The group stilled, unsure if they’d just been let in or pushed further out.

  Then he turned to Elias. “That’s my third confession.”

  Mira blinked. “Wait, what?”

  Adrian flipped his objective card with calm finality, Red Reckoner: Answer 3 confession questions.

  Adrian held up his token count with unbothered precision. “Mira had one, I took the card. I’ve answered two more. That makes three.”

  ?