Frame It And Pin It

The sounds of heels tapping against marble echoed, a terrifying rhythm in the almost empty room. Tucked away in a wardrobe, legs cramping, neck aching, you hugged your knees, heart pounding. The voice called your name, Jolene, and then, silence. She was gone, but how could she have missed the obvious hiding spot?

Minutes stretched into an unbearable silence. You had to risk it. Pushing open the wooden door, you peeked out. Empty. Crawling out, you stretched your numb legs, wincing, whispering to yourself, "You've got this, Jo. You've got this." You’d survived this long in the game, you couldn’t give up now.

Quietly, you moved towards the open door, scanning the hallway. All clear. You rushed down the stairs, the front door your only focus. Almost free. Then, the voice again, "There you are!" You froze. A hard object pressed against your back. "Don't move or I'll shoot." Hands up, you sighed, "Fine. You win." A loud horn blared, making you wince. The game was over. Diane, the best seeker, winked, tucking away her realistic gun. "You're getting better at this, Jo. You were the last man standing."

The game, TAS, an illegal, upgraded hide and seek played in stolen venues, had become your escape. The thrill was addictive, masking the guilt and the pain of your life since your father’s death and your mother’s return. But as the group dispersed, a nagging doubt about Diane’s actions lingered. Why hadn't she searched the wardrobe? And then, a strange call from Diane hours later, pleading for help, alone, and warning you not to trust anyone, especially Alex, set you on a path far more dangerous than any game of hide and seek.