If there was one skill—one legal and perfectly moral skill, at least—that Rohan had in spades, it was reading a room. And if there was one skill he’d honed to perfection in the past twelve hours, it was reading Savannah Grayson.
He’d heard Savannah’s sharp intake of breath when her twin’s head had slammed into that boulder. He’d felt Savannah’s world come screeching to a halt, frozen in the seconds it had taken for Gigi to stand back up.
He’d felt the shift in Savannah once it became clear that Gigi was going to be fine.
Revenge. Rohan imagined himself in the labyrinth, placing a hand on the door to the room that contained unknowns—things that mattered, puzzles that didn’t quite fit.
Grayson Hawthorne. Gigi. Their absent father. Revenge. A picture had begun to take hold. Rohan diverted just enough of his attention to the real world to look between Savannah and the game makers as Jameson Hawthorne stepped forward to answer her question.
“Those of you who remain in the game will have twelve hours to get some rest. Look for a special delivery then. In the meantime…” Jameson looked to Xander.
The youngest Hawthorne held out his right arm and dramatically pushed up his sleeve. He was wearing what appeared to be eight smartwatches. With no small amount of ceremony, Xander Hawthorne took off five of the
watches and handed them out to the remaining players, one by one.
Rohan accepted his, then observed Savannah doing the same. She wasn’t looking at Xander Hawthorne. She wasn’t looking at her twin sister or her Hawthorne half brother, either.
Savannah was watching Avery Grambs.
