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“No. ” He swallowed. “It hasn’t. ”
I clamped my mouth shut and waited expectantly for him to explain himself. He gave a short nod as if reassuring himself and then glanced away for a split second, his hand still wrapped around my wrist. “You once asked me why I bid on the auction. I never answered you, but I assume you still want to know. ”
I nodded.
“I can tell you the exact moment I knew I would win that auction. Win it, not just bid on it. You’d sent me the rough draft of your Manifesto to read and we’d been up discussing it in game chat past two a. m. I’d spent most of that time trying to talk you out of the whole thing, but you wouldn’t budge and when you started to get upset, I dropped the subject. That was the moment I knew I’d prevent it in another way because I could. ”
I grew cold inside and dizzy with disorientation. What the hell was he talking about? I never had that conversation with him. That was months before we’d even met! I’d stayed up talking that night with…My jaw dropped. I shook my head.
“What—?” I gasped.
He watched me intently, like a child might watch a firecracker after lighting the fuse and waiting for it to explode.
I shook my head again. “That wasn’t you. It was—” Fuck. No. No. This couldn’t be happening.
I remembered that conversation. He’d been so adamantly against the auction. He’d tried to pick apart every single argument I’d made in the Manifesto and it had hurt my feelings. We’d sent in-game messages back and forth for hours, my wrists growing sore from all the furious typing.
And my mind flew to the times before. When I’d poured my heart out to him about my mom and how sick she was. About how helpless I felt being too far away to care for her, to drive her to all her appointments. He’d consoled me then. Had told me I was making her proud by staying in school. That I was so close and that he believed in me.
I was shaking and pale and static crackled behind my ears, the only other sensation where his fingers tightened over my wrist. I struggled for a breath as if I’d been underwater a hundred years. “You’re FallenOne. ”
And, almost imperceptibly, he nodded, his obsidian eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes fluttered closed. I pulled my arm back and felt only the tiniest resistance from his hold before he relinquished it.
I stared at the tabletop between us, my mind racing over all the things he knew. Every experience we’d shared. Our regular gaming group of four had always had a great time playing together, but Fallen and I had spent hours and hours just alone in each other’s company. Online text chat, doing personal quests in the game, sharing quest notes and items. In some ways, I felt as close a friendship to him as I did to Heath.
To Fallen—to Adam—I corrected myself. “This doesn’t make sense. Fallen lives on the east coast—he’s a student—” I said, my voice shaking, still unable to look at him
He shifted in his chair. “Some of that was to mislead you. Some of it was stuff I never actually said but you led yourself to believe. Sometimes I was on the east coast for work when I logged on. ”
He knew so much about me and I knew practically nothing in comparison. On the day my mom had told me about her diagnosis, I’d turned to him because Heath was on a camping trip with his then-boyfriend. Fallen and I had chatted all night long and logged off at six in the morning. I’d cried to him. Sobbed over the very real possibility of losing her. I struggled to breathe. “How—how did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He glanced away and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I’ve told you that I go into the game and play from time to time. I playtest my own product—I wasn’t lying about that. I get into groups and help people finish quests and get the rewards that they needed. It’s fun to see them enjoying the game so much. ” He hesitated and cleared his throat but didn’t look at me.
“One night I grouped with this Barbarian Mercenary and Spiritual Enchantress and their friend, Persephone. I could listen to your voice chat even though I was in text. I think we were working on one of the newbie quests that night. That last piece of quest armor for Fragged—I mean Heath. I’ve had fun in other groups but never like that night. I laughed so hard at all the witty jokes that were flying around as we went through that annoying dungeon. And then Heath told me about your blog, said I should go read it. So I did. ”
He shot a tentative look my way, but I was staring into my own little happy place somewhere on the tabletop. “I loved the blog and—well, I broke my own rule about not grouping with the same people more than once. That night after work when I logged in, I went looking for your group again. I seldom left the office that week. I actually looked forward to logging on with you guys every night. That probably sounds pathetic—”