Madison Blake didn't scream.
That was the first strange thing I noticed.
Most people screamed when someone died ten feet away from them. Most people cried. Most people ran.
Madison just stood there.
Pale.
Perfectly still.
Her eyes locked on mine across the courtyard.
Around us the school erupted into chaos—students shouting, teachers trying to herd everyone away from the building, the ambulance siren fading into the distance.
But Madison didn't move.
Neither did I.
For a moment it felt like the rest of Redwood Hills had vanished. Just the two of us, and the ghost of Lily Lin standing somewhere between.
Then my phone vibrated.
Another message.
I didn't need to read it. I already knew what it would say.
But I looked anyway.
She knows.
My pulse slowed.
Of course she knew.
Madison Blake had been in the video. She had held the pliers. She had laughed.
People like Madison didn't forget things like that.
Across the courtyard she turned suddenly and began walking away from the crowd—fast, almost running.
I started after her.
"Ethan!"
Detective Harris's voice cut through the noise behind me.
I kept walking.
"Ethan!"
Footsteps followed. Harris grabbed my arm.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Bathroom."
"You're not funny."
"I'm not trying to be."
His grip tightened.
"You don't leave my sight right now."
"Then you'd better hurry."
"Why?"
"Because Madison Blake is about to do something stupid."
Harris glanced toward the retreating crowd.
"Why would you say that?"
I held up my phone.
He read the screen.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Madison Blake is next.
Harris muttered something under his breath.
Park stepped beside him.
"What is it?"
He showed her.
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
"We need to find her."
Harris nodded.
"Where would she go?"
I didn't hesitate.
"The locker room."
Park looked at me.
"Why?"
"Because that's where the game started."
The east gym hallway was empty again. Students had been pushed toward the front of the campus, leaving the back buildings deserted.
Too quiet.
Our footsteps echoed against the concrete floor.
Harris reached the locker room door first. The police tape hung loose where I had slipped under it earlier. He pushed the door open.
The room inside was dark.
"Madison?" Harris called.
No answer.
Park stepped inside carefully, her eyes moving across the benches, the lockers, the floor.
Then she pointed.
"Over there."
Madison Blake sat on the same bench Lily Lin had sat on in the video.
Her hands were shaking. Her hair had come loose from its neat ponytail.
She looked smaller somehow—like the confidence she carried through the halls every day had been stripped away.
Harris approached slowly.
"Madison."
She didn't look up.
"Madison Blake," he said more firmly. "We need to talk."
She laughed softly.
It wasn't a pleasant sound.
"You're too late."
"Too late for what?"
Her eyes lifted.
They moved past Harris, past Park, until they landed on me.
"You told them."
I shook my head.
"No."
"Then how do they know?"
"They found the video."
Her face drained of color.
"The phone?"
"Yes."
Madison covered her mouth.
For a moment she looked like she might throw up.
Harris stepped closer.
"Madison, we need you to tell us what happened to Lily Lin."
She started laughing again—louder this time.
"You think this is about Lily?"
"Isn't it?"
"No."
Her laughter stopped abruptly.
"You don't understand."
Park crouched down in front of her.
"Then explain it."
Madison looked at her for a long moment.
Then whispered:
"Emma didn't jump."
Harris frowned.
"Witnesses say she did."
"They're wrong."
"Why?"
Madison's voice trembled.
"Because she was pushed."
The room went silent.
"By who?" Park asked quietly.
Madison looked at me again.
Fear filled her eyes.
"Him."
Harris turned sharply.
"Ethan?"
I didn't move.
"That's interesting," I said.
Harris's voice hardened.
"You were on the roof?"
"No."
Madison shook her head violently.
"You're lying!"
"About what?"
"You were there!"
"Were you?"
She froze.
Her breathing grew faster.
Park noticed immediately.
"Madison," she said gently, "did you see who pushed Emma?"
Madison didn't answer.
Instead she stared at the floor.
Then whispered so quietly we barely heard it:
"She fell."
Harris frowned.
"That's not what you just said."
"She slipped."
"Madison—"
"She slipped!"
Her voice cracked.
"She was scared!"
"Of what?"
Madison pointed toward the lockers.
"Of the game."
Park followed her gaze.
"The game?"
Madison nodded slowly.
"Olivia started it."
"What game?"
Madison's lips trembled.
"She called it... the last player."
Harris's patience snapped.
"Enough riddles. What does that mean?"
Madison swallowed.
"There were four of us."
Olivia.
Emma.
Madison.
And Lily.
"The rules were simple," she said weakly.
"Whoever told anyone about the game lost."
"Lost what?" Park asked.
Madison laughed again.
"Everything."
My phone vibrated.
Another message.
I opened it.
She's telling the truth.
Then another message appeared.
But not all of it.
I typed quickly.
Where are you?
The reply came slowly.
Closer than you think.
Before I could respond—
A loud metallic crash echoed through the locker room.
Everyone turned.
One of the locker doors had slammed shut.
Hard.
Harris moved immediately.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
Park reached for her radio.
"Dispatch—"
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Someone screamed.
Madison.
Harris's flashlight snapped on.
The beam cut through the darkness.
But the locker room looked different now.
The bench Madison had been sitting on was empty.
She was gone.
Park spun around.
"Madison!"
No answer.
Harris moved toward the door.
It didn't open.
He pulled harder.
The metal handle rattled uselessly.
Locked.
Park looked at him.
"Someone chained it."
Harris cursed under his breath.
Just like Olivia.
Locked inside.
My phone buzzed again in the darkness.
The screen lit up.
One final message appeared.
The game is almost over.
Then another line appeared.
Two players left.
I looked up slowly.
Harris.
Park.
And me.
Three people.
But according to the message—
Only two of us were still playing.
