She woke up as naturally as it gets, tucked under her blankets.
Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Samantha climbed out of bed and stepped into the hallway just as her mother emerged.
"Morning…" Samantha greeted, awkwardly. Last night's memories still clung to both of them.
"Yeah. Morning."
"I need to go—Liam and Jason's college. I have to find them."
"I'll drive you," Heather said, "but not on an empty stomach."
They sat together at the table, silent, sharing grilled cheese for breakfast.
"I don't feel tired," Heather said suddenly.
"I never do," Samantha replied, poking at her plate. "I don't know why."
Heather sighed. "Last night… watching you… I think I saw how Nick was through you."
"What do you mean?"
"Unreasonably selfless." Heather's laugh was brittle, a crack more than a sound.
Samantha dropped her head. Nick had been just that—unreasonably selfless. And she'd inherited every reckless piece of it.
"…Should we check the next question?" Heather asked. The new reality was their survival hinged on it.
"Yeah." Samantha pulled out her phone.
But tonight's question wasn't posted yet—only last night's results: 87% for Antarctica, 72% for the Sahara. A clear win for the players, but victory still meant casualties.
Heather saw her daughter's frown. "Come on. Let's go."
—
"Jim?"
Jason's voice quivered. He stood frozen beside Jim's bed.
He'd woken up in his dorm despite his last waking memory outside the game being in a diner—now he was staring at Jim. Jim, lying there. Throat cut open. Blood soaked through the mattress, dripped to the floor.
Jason's legs shook. Sweat dripped down his temples. His breath hitched in panic.
—
By the time Heather and Samantha arrived at campus, the campus was awash in sirens.
"What's going on?" Heather asked, eyes darting. Samantha didn't answer—she didn't know either.
They searched frantically until they found him: Jason. Sitting on a bench, eyes vacant, being questioned by an officer. An ambulance door slammed shut behind them—inside, a body bag.
"Oh god…" Heather gasped. Samantha ran forward but a cop stopped her short.
"What happened?!" Samantha demanded, but the officer blocked her path.
"Ma'am, please calm down. You can't come closer."
"I need to speak to Jason. Please."
"Who are you to him?"
"I'm a friend."
"Then wait. Let him finish here."
Samantha clenched her fists but stepped back. From where she stood, Jason didn't look capable of answering questions—didn't look capable of anything.
"…I guess I'll look for Liam first," she muttered.
—
Jason sat on that bench like a ghost. A hand landed on his shoulder—firm, heavy.
"I'm sorry for your loss," the officer said gently. "Your father… it was suicide. He was found hanging in his partner's apartment. The security footage confirmed it."
Jason's chest heaved. Suicide? He knew his father—he'd never do it. Not willingly. Which meant only one thing.
The game.
If his father hadn't been with him in Antarctica, then he'd been in the Sahara. With Liam.
"Huh…?" Jason whispered to no one. The world spun.
—
Samantha asked around, desperate, but no one knew where Liam lived. But someone else did—and was moving faster.
Caitlyn.
She reached Liam's dorm first. Empty. Locked.
"Liam?" she called, banging on the door. "Liam? Are you in there?"
No answer—just a quiet masculine voice behind her.
"He's not here?"
She turned. A middle-aged man stood there—she didn't know him. Didn't like how calm he looked.
"Who are you?" Caitlyn asked, breathless.
—
Of everyone searching for Liam Dye that morning, there was one undisputed winner. He had found him so much earlier than everyone else that they are now sat having coffee.
Liam sat across from Detective Knight in a quiet café. Away from sirens. Away from the chaos.
Knight's face was hidden as always, but his grin was unmistakable even through the mask.
"You're a professional," Knight said. His tone dripped with amusement. "One night. Same method. Same scene. Flawless."
Liam sat stiff, his eyes cold as always. "So?"
Knight nudged a briefcase across the floor. "I'm impressed, truly."
He leaned closer, voice gleeful. "Your work was so careful the cops found nothing—yet you took a risk, by trusting I'd keep my word."
Liam's poker face slipped. Knight laughed softly at the crack.
"Haha… I did it. Don't worry, I did meant my word."
Liam readjusted himself, but his fingers betrayed him—trembling, restless.
Knight's eyes gleamed. "However, I didn't actually care about the dead cop. That was just to see if you could do it."
Liam's brow twitched. Knight leaned back, his next words smooth as poison.
"How about the real target? A hundred thousand for his head."