Page 34 of Enter if you Dare: Part Two

Valli falls asleep at the table, and none of us wake her. Cave simply stands and lifts her, and she stirs enough to grab his jacket. Cipher helps him while I put out the fire and bring in the plates.

This is my life now, and nobody is taking it away from me.

Valli

My follow-up pile is finally at an end, with only one slip left. I hate loose ends, and I have figured out everything so far. Nixie has been the best boss I have ever worked for, and she pays me well. I don’t think I have ever seen my bank balance go up before.

The office is slow, and Nixie is on the mainland until tonight, as she had a meeting with the bank and some new suppliers. So I take the opportunity to spread the vendor logs across her desk—mine is too small—and do what she taught me. Cross-reference everything, follow the money, and ask myself one good question instead of multiple irrelevant ones.

The house number on the slip belongs to the vacant lot at the end of the residential area that is being renovated. It sits beside the Jester’s house. Yet the kitchen has been billing meals to it for weeks. Three meals a day. I find the start date and my stomach drops. The deliveries started the day Cipher was shot.

Like Noa said, there are a dozen possible explanations. It could be the overtime crew needing to bill it somewhere, and the kitchen assigned it to the empty lot. I call down to the kitchen and get one of Rue’s runners and ask about the orders.

“Oh, the funny one,” she says. “The clown picks them up himself, says it’s for his crew. It went down to two trays a day, so I guess someone on his crew left.”

I thank her and hang up. Who the hell is the clown? We have a few on the island, yet all of their meals are logged to their houses, though I double-check again to make sure.

Unless she means the Jester . . . he sort of looks like a clown.

I pull my phone out to text Noa, as he seems to know a lot about everything and everyone here on the island. My thumb is on his name when I stop. I need to figure this one out on my own—something in my gut isn’t sitting right about this case. Besides, I can’t have my men solve all my problems for me. While I don’t want to keep anything from them, I also want to show them I can do this job by myself.

The best explanation is that the Jester is up to something. It makes sense, as he lives next door, and he also borrowed Noa’s hearse two days ago.

A sick thought pops into my head. Nobody has told me where my brother is; he simply vanished. Cave confirmed he is alive, so I thought they let him go. But if they did, surely I would’ve heard from him by now. Rowan is the type of guy who doesn’t simply go away. He would have needed money, and even if they had given him any, he would have blown it by now. He is an addict and can’t be trusted. But there is no way they would have locked him away here on the island. That makes no sense, and now I’m being crazy.

I check the rotation board and see that the Jester is on maze duty until six. Then I sign out the maintenance keys for his house and write vendor audit in the reason column. Lying about my motives could get me fired, but this mystery is eating at me, and I can’t let it go.

I try not to draw attention to myself as I walk toward the residential area. No one seems to be down this way—almost everyone will be on shift, and anyone who isn’t must not be outside.

The Jester’s house sits at the end of the row, with its staked tomatoes and herb pots. I stand on his porch and knock twice. The house next door is mid-renovation, so there is no way the actual meals are going there.

When no one answers, I use the key to let myself inside. The house is clean, and not a “man who lives by himself” clean, I mean spotless. No dishes are in the sink, and everything has a place. I feel insane for the thoughts that were running through my brain when I walked in here.

I’m an idiot. Maybe the guy is extra hungry, and who am I to question that? As I walk toward the front door, I freeze at the sound of a muffled cough from beneath me.

I scan the kitchen and notice the pantry door is cracked. When I step toward it, my hands shake. Could someone be in there? I’m taken aback when I realize it’s no ordinary pantry; there is a door inside with a slide bolt. I shift it back and push open the door, which reveals a set of stairs behind it. My heart thumps in my chest as I flick on the light. The smell of bleach is strong as I go down the stairs, and when I hit the bottom, my gaze snags on two cell-like cages side by side.

“Valli?”

At the sound of this voice, my heart dies in my chest.

I don’t remember moving, but now I stand at the bars, my hands covering his. My brother is thinner than when I last saw him and pale. Rowan’s eyes flash through a range of emotions—relief, anger, shame—all ones I have seen him wear before, but right now my own anger simmers.

“Thank God it’s you and not him. He wears bells so I can hear him coming.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Is he with you?”

“No. Rowan, look at me. How long have you been down here?”

“Since that night. They brought me back here.”

The room tilts. He’s been down here that long, and I wasn’t told about it.

“Who?” I ask. I already know, but I need him to say it because some part of me is hoping that it’s not true.

“Your scarecrow, and that Jester. The Scarecrow only comes once or twice a week, but the Jester is here every day.”

He tells me about everything that has happened down here. That he is fed, and no one has touched him yet. I want to ask what he means by yet, but I don’t. Betrayal hits me hard. Cave knows better. I might not want Rowan in my life, but I don’t want him dead either. He is my brother, one of the last pieces of my father. We may not share the same mother, but Rowan is still my blood.

I make myself step back from the bars and check the rest of the room. The cell beside him has a cot, just like his, but it seems emptier. Rowan has a lamp and books, whereas the other is colder somehow, and the cot has no mattress. It also has a drain in the center, and the smell of bleach is coming from that direction.