Chapter 42 Sierra
Sierra
No one spoke as they were driven out of the complex and to the loser hotel, where eliminated teams stayed until the episode dropped each Sunday.
Sierra’s anger had yet to subside. Every time she thought about what Adi had done, it roared up again. He hadn’t even tried to apologize. He’d packed his bags without a word while Carter and Beck had hunted through the villa for any stray phone chargers or puzzle books.
When the car pulled up, Sierra grabbed her bags and stormed to the hotel reception to check in.
They were leaving, and she didn’t have proof Ranielle killed Alicia.
The cops wouldn’t keep looking—according to them, they’d closed a murder case.
The chief of police had given a press conference that afternoon after releasing Louis’s suicide note and confession.
To listen to her answering the media’s questions, you’d think she’d closed the crime of the century.
Alicia Angelos was no longer an unsolved mystery. Why would they want to poke holes?
Sierra wanted to poke holes. Sierra wanted justice.
She was given two rooms next to each other.
“You head up,” she said, passing around the key cards. “I might stay down here a bit longer.” The thought of having to spend a single second more with Adi, especially in an elevator, was making her stomach churn.
Beck and Carter hesitated.
Adi sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll go up by myself.”
Sierra waited until the elevator doors had closed before she said, “What an asshole.”
“I don’t understand why he did it,” Carter said.
“Or why Ranielle offered him cheats in the first place,” Beck said.
Sierra shrugged. “People like to look at him. She wanted to keep him on the screen for as long as possible. For viewership.” She practically spat the word.
“Adi doesn’t strike me as the type to take cheats,” Carter said. “He likes to show off what he can do.”
“Maybe he didn’t trust us to pull our weight,” Sierra said. “He only cares about himself.”
She rolled her battered suitcase to the elevators. The others followed reluctantly.
“Do you think . . . maybe . . . we should talk to him?” Carter said as the doors opened.
“Screw that.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Beck said. When Sierra glared at him, he added, “You’re not my boss anymore. I can talk to him if I want.”
“I’ll talk to him, too,” Carter said.
Sierra tightened her grip on her suitcase handle. “Fine, I’ll come. At least I’ll get to yell at him some more.”
When they reached Adi’s room, Beck knocked. It took some time for Adi to open the door. W hen he saw them together, he said, “We’ll talk, but I wanted to wait until you’d cooled down first.”
“Cooled down?” Sierra pushed past him into the room. “Cooled down? There is no cooling down!”
Beck and Carter followed in her wake. Beck closed the door.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” Sierra demanded. “We have no access to the studio anymore. No access to the complex, no access to Ranielle. We’re never going to find proof she killed my sister.”
“Look, maybe there is proof. I need to find out where Jarius got that recording—”
“What’s the matter with you? Who cares where he got the recording? It’s over. You’ve ruined everything. The only reason you got onto the show in the first place was because your mom bribed the producers, and then you went and accepted cheats, because the only person you care about is yourself !”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Oh right, my mistake. You also care about impressing your greedy-ass father. But news flash. He doesn’t want you!”
Adi’s face reddened. “You don’t get to psychoanalyze me when everything has been about you from day one.”
“Wow, good call. I guess I should just get over being accused of my sister’s murder.”
“Of course not! But that’s all you are, Sierra! The sister slayer, the bringer of justice, the villain—you let these roles define you. If you didn’t need to solve Alicia’s murder, you would have nothing.”
His words landed with staggering accuracy. This was what happened when people got too close. They saw the raw, vulnerable truth, then they took their shot. She should’ve learned that lesson by now.
Before the barb could fester, she twisted it into anger.
“Screw you,” she spat, wrenching her suitcase around and pushing it toward the door.
“Wait,” said Carter. She had her phone out and was staring at it with wide eyes. “The Real Game Master has posted on the Domain again!”
“What now?” Sierra snatched the phone out of Carter’s grip to read the post herself.
@TheRealGameMaster
Don’t disappoint me, Clue Masters! The police are WRONG.
LAR’s “confession” is a FAKE.
Louis Augustus Russell DID NOT KILL ALICIA.
I know the truth, and I can still reveal all in the finale—but you haven’t held up your end of the bargain.
Read the clues again. Don’t take the easy way out like those incompetent detectives.
SPOT THE LIE.
Or this murderer will never be brought to justice.
Sierra grunted. “Nothing we didn’t already know.”
Carter grabbed her phone back and started scrolling through the comments. “Yikes. Some of the replies are harsh. Not everyone’s buying the Real Game Master’s story anymore.”
“People have turned on Louis Augustus Russell,” Beck said, settling his chin on Carter’s shoulder as they read together. Adi stayed where he was on the other side of the room.
“And so they should,” Sierra said. “Even if he didn’t kill my sister, he was a predator.”
Carter shook her head. “But if they’re focused on him, they’re not thinking about who the real killer is.” She began to type. “Why don’t we put Ranielle’s name under the Real Game Master’s post now?”
“You really want your name attached to that without proof ?” Sierra said.
Carter’s fingers paused.
“Thought so.” Sierra rolled her suitcase past Carter and Beck, through the door. “There’s no point. It’s over.”
Sierra scribbled out another failed sketch and flipped the page to start again. The view of the sunset staining the horizon was supposed to be inspiring.
It wasn’t.
She didn’t know why she’d come here. She hated the beach.
Sand got into her clothes, and she inevitably left with a sunburn.
The beach had been Alicia’s thing. She’d talked about learning to surf or scuba dive.
She’d dreamed of buying a boat and sleeping out in the middle of the ocean.
Getting up with the dawn to swim with dolphins.
Things she’d never do. Dreams that had been stolen from her.
The pencil snapped in her hand. She dug another one from the box in her satchel, swiping hair from her face.
She’d been struggling to draw since Alicia’s death.
Leaving her pen tablet at home was supposed to make her miss it.
She’d been hoping to rekindle her creativity while she was here, but buying a new sketchbook and pencil box had proved futile.
Her passion was gone. She’d known, ever since the fortune teller’s room, when she’d missed the obvious connection that red and blue made purple.
Sierra’s time was done. Her creativity had shriveled with her soul.
That’s not broken. That’s . . . that’s incredible.
Her pencil paused on the page as Beck’s words drifted through her mind. It had been a total perception shift when he’d said that in the freezer. To see herself as something besides permanently damaged. To dare to believe she could be good, after everything the world had told her.
We’ll be your people.
They had been.
And then they’d betrayed her. Adi had betrayed her. Betrayed all of them.
Served her right. Sierra had almost allowed herself to be taken in. She’d begun to believe there were decent humans out there, and look where that had gotten her.
There were only monsters in the world. No Helsings.
She got up from the bench, slung her satchel over her shoulder, and dumped her sketchbook in the trash.
Twilight had fallen by the time she reached the lobby. She spotted Carter and Beck sharing french fries at the hotel restaurant. They had their heads together, laughing at something on Carter’s phone.
Sierra slowed, waiting for a spark of anger that they could be enjoying themselves at a time like this.
Instead, some of the ice thawed from around her heart. She took a step toward them. Toward Beck, whose smile was still contagious. Toward Carter, who could be so socially awkward yet so eager to let people in.
Her friends.
The thought drummed against her chest like a heartbeat.
But then her gaze found Adi at the bar, holding a book in one hand and eating spring rolls with the other. Sierra recoiled.
People couldn’t be trusted.
She hurried to the elevator, leaving the food and laughter behind.
“I am alone,” she told herself as she opened her hotel room door.
“I am alone,” she chanted as she ran a bath.
“I am alone,” she whispered as she scrubbed and scrubbed at her armor until the towel was coated in black and she couldn’t tell the bath water from her tears.
Alone alone alone—
There was a knock at the bathroom door. Carter’s hesitant voice came through.
“Sierra?”
Sierra shuddered through a sob. “Leave me—”
The door opened. Carter walked in, hands covering her eyes. “We can hear you crying.”
Beck walked in behind her, also with a hand over his eyes. His other hand was holding a giant bag of Skittles. “We brought you snacks.”
It took Sierra some time to grapple with her voice through her pain. “Go away.”
“You’re not alone, Sierra,” Carter said. “Oof, Beck, you bumped me!”
“Sorry.” Beck waved the bag uncertainly. “Where are you, Sierra? I don’t want to get the candy wet.”
“Jesus Christ,” Sierra said. “You can uncover your eyes. I have bubbles.”
Both of them lowered their hands. They simultaneously sighed in relief when they realized that yes, the water was appropriately frothed.
“Bubbles are good,” Beck said to Carter in a stage whisper. “No one seriously depressed would have bubbles.”
Carter sat down next to the bath. “You’re not alone, Sierra,” she said again.
Maybe she’d been chanting those words louder than she’d thought.
“Carter and I were thinking we should talk to Adi again,” Beck said. “If he really does know something—” “Screw that asshole.”
“We still have a few days before we’re sent home. And we’re completely free. No schedules, no RAs, no rooms to run. Without any distractions, we can put all our focus on proving Ranielle killed Alicia.” He pointed at his temple. “Laser.”
Carter patted Sierra’s arm. “It’s not over yet.”
“How will we get evidence if we can’t get into the studio?”
“We’ll find a way,” said Beck. “We’re still Team Helsing. And hopefully Adi will have something useful to tell us. In the morning,” he added, when Sierra opened her mouth to argue. He offered her the bag of Skittles. She eyed it with distrust.
“It’s not poisoned,” Carter assured her.
Sierra huffed and held out her palm. The rainbow candies stuck to her damp skin, but the sugary crunch was pretty delicious.
Beck offered her another handful and she took the whole bag.
Carter dug out her phone. “We have to show you something.”
“What?” Sierra perked up. “Has the Real Game Master posted again?” She hadn’t checked the Domain all afternoon.
“Better. Look.”
Sierra leaned in and frowned. “It’s a cat.”
“And a ferret! Look at them! Look— Watch this bit—”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“It has to do with everything,” said Beck, putting the toilet lid down so he could perch on it. “Strap in, Sierra. We’ve got a million of them, and they will change your life.”