Chapter Ten

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[over call]

"We have twenty seconds."

"Who is this?"

"A little birdie in the grapevine."

"I said-who is this?"

"A messenger sending their message. Garcia, 2PM, Starbucks, on Fifth Avenue."

"Who the hell-"

"The Amirs. Garcia wants to see the Amirs."

"Tell me-"

"2PM, Starbucks, on Fifth Avenue."


Chapter Ten


Ever since Ranna was a young girl, she'd always known she was good at lying.

It started small, as most things do. She would pretend to be sleeping when she was not. She would pretend to be sick to get out of things she didn't want to do. These things were all harmless. Nothing bad could come of a child lying in bed for an extra day, or their mind awake for a few extra hours of the night.

But things got worse.

It was little things. Little things that were so, so big, at times, weren't they? Do you like this person? Do you enjoy this game? Are you comfortable in this dress? She could convince anyone; her parents, friends, brothers and sisters, and all had no idea that parts of her were a lie.

And she lived a lie, a lie she crafted so carefully, so obsessively, that she too began to believe it.

Played by the fool.

"And being the fool."

Rannia watched as the last car pulled out of the driveway, watching as it turned past the hedge and disappeared. One Amir, two Amirs, three Amirs, four...

Rannia smiled as she counted them in her head, ticking off each person that had left in a hurry.

The last Amir was sat on the porch step, elbows on their knees as they stared out blankly at the lawn before them.

The grass was a vibrant green. Mrs. Amir had always made a great effort to keep up the garden and lawn around the house. So now she sat there, looking as though she were admiring it, but Rannia knew better. The woman was worried.

Rannia would be too if her entire family, barely mobile husband included, all rushed off for an emergency meeting, reasons unknown. Mrs. Amir's knee bounced.

Rannia walked over to the front door and locked it, followed by the back door. Mrs. Amir would find her way in eventually, but the locking would just give Rannia some extra time.

Alone at last, Rannia sauntered over to the door by the back of the house. It led down to the basement Carter had so feverishly insisted Rannia not explore.

Raising a brow, she cocked her head to the side and pulled on the plastic gloves she always kept in her pocket. Her hair was tied back in a knot, to keep any stray hairs from falling out. Rannia slipped a bobby pin from her pocket and got to work on her knees, twisting and pushing and turning until the final latches of the lock released and the door creaked open with a squeal.

She released a breath as she got to her feet, wiping her brow for the dramatics of it all.

She removed her phone from her pocket to use as a flashlight, and closed the basement door before she went down.

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