Chapter 1, page 2

“Did you just finish collecting your fee? The tournament is tomorrow, right?”

“I’m in a good place.”

“Normally, when you need to raise capital, you’re a little quicker. Is something wrong? Why have you been avoiding my calls? Did you scope out the location? Where is the tournament taking place?”

My head fell back, colliding with the bed’s headboard as I closed my eyes. “Matt, if you want answers, focus on one question before skipping to the next.”

“Then start answering them.”

Poof. And just like that, all of Matt’s whimsey vanished. My eyes drifted to the ceiling as my mind tried considering and dismissing partial and even complete answers. With a tense silence engulfing me, I eventually settled on the belief Matt wasn’t completely serious about the interrogation.

“Give me a little credit. I’ve possessed the entire fee before I
rolled into the city.”

“When was that?”

Instantly, my hand pulled away from the knife, revealing a miniature copy of my friend’s face laying upon the briefcase. It was a decent rendition, complete with a furrowed brow and a mouth pulled into a severe line. I covered the small model and pulled my hand away again, uncovering a small teacup. I’d offered more than I intended with that tidbit. Unfortunately, despite being able to dissemble my way out of most situations, Matt could always slice through my meticulously crafted narratives. Which meant I’d have to dance around the aspects I didn’t want to share.

The only hope I had was to select a true and meaningless fact and then embellish it. While he’d sniff out an outright lie, I typically could slip massaged truths past him. So I gritted my teeth as I placed my hand on the small porcelain cup and smashed it. However, instead of shattering, the ceramic vessel changed back into the laminated document I’d plucked from the nightstand. I was going to tell him a partial truth. “I’ve been in the city going on three days now.”

“What have you spent the last three days doing?”

Sometimes the world gives you what you’re hoping for. As my lips curled into a warm smile, my friend’s voice shattered the momentary pause.

“Wait, have you been using that glass circle trick of yours to get your surveillance?”

I mouthed the word yes. My gift was one of the very few things that distracted Matt. Whenever I flexed those muscles, it was like a dog seeing a squirrel scamper across the yard. I pulled my hand off the document to watch the large paper contort into a collection of sticky notes. Of course, the most memorable example of what I could do was the glass circle trick.

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