Love Games

Sixty - two: ... love?

When Mario withdraws and the door closes quietly behind him again, my hands are still shaking slightly.

I try to steady my breathing, but my mind is racing. The box, Jack's message, Mario... it's all too much.

Something in the look in his eyes disturbs me.

It's not just fear or discomfort - it's the feeling that he knows more than he's telling me.

Maybe even more than he should.

I bend back to the box and carefully put my things back.

I squeeze the phone in my hand, its weight now both reassuring and a reminder of responsibility.

Jack has obviously taken care of everything. He always takes care of everything, even when he's just a few feet away, the next room over.

But what happens if one day he can't?

My fingers slide involuntarily along the edge of the phone until the screen turns on.

A flashing icon on the lock screen catches my attention - an unanswered message. My heart skips a beat when I see it's from Jack. He has more than obviously saved his number.

"Mario told me you were curious. Sarah, I know you're smart, but this curiosity could kill you. Stick to the plan. Please."

The words are simple, but enough to shake me.

Does she really know me that well? Or have I really become so predictable?

Before I can think, I hear the voices again.

This time they are clearer.

They are not just coming from the hallway, but from another room in the house.

Downstairs? In the basement? My thoughts switch between reason and instinct.

Jack would expect me to stay here, in the safe shelter of the room, but part of me knows that this "safety" comes at a high price - ignorance.

I decide.

I've had enough of sitting in the dark.

If I am really part of this world, then I need to know who my enemies are and who my allies are.

I squeeze the phone in my hand and move towards the door.

This time my movements are deliberate, my steps quiet.

I walk down the corridor towards the staircase, and round the corner I see the door slightly ajar. A faint light seeps in from behind them and the voices become clearer.

A man's voice - deep, commanding - combines with the answers of another, more reserved voice.

I move closer and look slightly through the opening.

There are two men in the room whom I do not recognise.

There is a map on the table between them and papers scattered around, some with Jack's name on them.

One of the men is holding what looks like a gun, which he turns lightly between his fingers. The other points his head towards the papers and says: "Jack has no idea what's coming. This thing is going to bury him - and everyone with him."

I hold my breath, my heart raging in my chest.

My hands are sweating, the phone is getting slippery. I shouldn't have heard that. But it's too late now.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

I look cautiously through the crack again and see someone I recognise immediately approaching the two men. Mario. His presence fills the room with a kind of quiet authority, as if he were the only one there in complete control of the situation. The voices fall silent, both men straighten up, their expressions become more reserved.