𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 || j. daniel atlas

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

When Alena took her seat next to Arthur Tressler once more, the lights had already fallen and Jack Wilder had taken centre stage. The second half passed much like the first, but after properly meeting each of the Four Horsemen, the part of her that wanted to pick apart their tricks seemed to have grown even smaller.

Towards the end of the second act, Merritt came to the front of the stage to address the audience. "At the intermission, we asked you to write down your current bank balance and seal it in an envelope. Now, it's time to take those envelopes out." Alena hadn't found an envelope under her chair like the rest of the audience, but she somehow sensed that this final trick wasn't meant for her.

As people began shouting out their names, Alena cast her eyes over the crowd. She paid close attention to the three members singled out but didn't notice anything special about them. And then her gaze came to rest on the two agents.

"I almost forgot," Merritt continued, and Alena saw that Daniel and Henley had joined him on the stage. "This evening would not be possible if it weren't for our great benefactor, Arthur Tressler."

"Big applause, big applause," said Daniel. "Art, actually, why don't you come up on stage for the finale?"

Alena clapped and cheered along with the rest as Arthur stood and made his way out of the box. Shifting forwards to the edge of her seat, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and fiddled with the ends in anticipation.

"Art, did you fill out your envelope?" Henley asked, and Arthur shook his head. "Well, no need. We've done it for you." Now Jack came onto the stage, carrying a very large envelope.

"Now, I took a guess north of about a hundred and forty. Am I right? That's a hundred and forty million, by the way," Merritt chuckled.

Alena almost choked when she saw the number on the check. Even after her rise to success, she had never dreamed that she would ever have half a million dollars in her account, let alone a hundred and forty.

"Ooh, er, I'm sorry, Merritt. How can he be right about his balance and everyone else be wrong?"

At Henley's words, Alena's heart sunk like a stone. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her pursed lips and slowly reached down with her other hand to grasp the straps of her bag. She didn't know what the Horsemen were up to, but she could feel a thumping of dread-filled adrenaline rising in her ears, urging her to run.

"I think possibly because he, too, is wrong," Merritt replied, and that beat of adrenaline became louder. "Now, everybody, take out your paper. Using the flashlight under your seat, start to warm up that paper until your correct balance begins to appear. Now, Art, don't worry. We have a flashlight for you.

Jack re-entered the stage, holding a torch so hefty that Alena would have found it comedic had she not been poised, with her bag now on her knees, for the right moment to get up and leave. If the Horsemen were involved in another crime and the FBI found out that she had attended the second of two criminal shows, she wasn't sure even Mr Tressler's lawyers could keep her safe, especially now, as the numbers on his cheque began to fall away.

"We have a confession to make," said Henley.

"She's right. We lied about something," said Jack.

"Yes, none of you were chosen at random." Daniel.

"All of you have one thing in common." And Merritt.

"Everyone in this room was a victim of the hard times that hit one of America's most treasured cities."

"Some of you lost your houses. Your cars."