The Wheel

51. Michael

There was the display of Veronica's phone on every wall: the interface with the call time, the decline button, and a small round photo of a middle-aged woman with a short haircut.

"Mom!" she screamed. "Mom, can you hear me?"

"Of course, I can hear you, darling," the grown up calm female voice replied. "How is the party going? Will you come home tomorrow?"

"Mom, listen!" Veronica raised her voice. "We have been kidnapped! We are in a damn room! There are a lot of black screens! We don't know where we are! Please! Call the police!"

There was a silence.

"Mom?!" asked Veronica. "Mom!"
"Oh, I'm glad you're having a good time," the woman said in the same calm manner.

"No, mom!" Veronica screamed even louder. "We're kidnapped! Call the cops!"

"Yeah, I understand that you're having fun," Veronica's mom said serenely. "Well, okay, I just wanted to make sure that you're fine, my darling. Becca and dad say hi."

"Mom! Mommy! You don't hear me!" Veronica started crying again. "Help me! I'm begging you!"

"Buy, Veronica!" Mrs. Spears said and hung up.

The table with the leftovers went up. Sam began to calm his girlfriend down again.

"No..." Veronica said quietly. "You assholes!" she couldn't help but scream. "What's wrong with my family? Why didn't my mother hear me?!"

"Your family is fine, Ms. Spears," said Ayama coldheartedly. "It was really her calling. She just heard slightly different words."

"How? How did that happen?" she was shocked. "On the other hand, your super-advanced technologies can imitate people's voices, nothing to be surprised about!

"Does anyone else have a hope that they will be out of here before the trial is over?" the omnipresent female voice asked a philosophical question.

The room got quiet again.

We just started feeling better after the dinner and this call reminded all of us what we're going through.

"Ms. Wilson, do you like the idea of spinning the wheel next?" asked Ayama. "We have to keep going anyway."

The cute girl was trying to hide the fear on her face, but she failed.

"Not really, but I'll have to do it," she replied quietly and sat t the table, preliminary looking at me.

Emma sat on the chair and took a deep breath, and then the mechanism shackled her hands.

"Ms. Emma Wilson," Ayama said calmly. "A kind, religious, and a little naïve student. It might seem she came to us from a magical land Oz. Ms. Wilson, have you ever wanted to be an actress? I think you would succeed in that field with your irresistible, cute, and sincere smile."

On the wall in front of Emma I saw her beautiful photos, where she was smiling.

She is so photogenic, unlike me.

"I thought about it," she answered, "but my parents wouldn't let me. You know, I've got to say that my life is very restricted: my father is worried that Hollywood will pervert me and I'll go to hell. When your father is a priest, your life is so...constrained."

"Do you believe that there is hell, Ms. Wilson?" Ayama continued asking questions.

"No," she shook her head, "I believe that God loves everyone just the way we are. God says we should follow the path of love doesn't matter what. If we do otherwise, we will come across the same problems again and again that we will be able to overcome only if we choose love."

"I agree with you," Veronica said.
"Thank you," the cute girl smiled a little. "Do you have any other questions, Ayama?"

"Not yet. Ms. Wilson, you can spin the wheel."