It turned out to be farther than they assumed. They jostled their way through the crowd of holograms, watching shops appear, flicker, and disappear, and crowds of holograms gather and wander and bump right into them. It seemed like the people of Paheli had nothing else to do besides perpetually shop, all day, every day.

Hours had passed, or so it felt, by the time the kids staggered through the entrance of Madame Nasirah’s shop. They dusted themselves off and collapsed onto the cushions, letting their heads loll back as they took a moment to breathe.

Madame Nasirah bustled out of the back entrance.

Ahmad smiled, readying the greeting on his lips—and there, the words froze. Because the woman was indeed holding her familiar teapot, but the look on her face bore not a drop of recognition.

“Oh my!” she crooned. “New players! Why, it must be an age since I’ve seen some young faces in the game. Welcome, welcome! Just give me a moment and we’ll have some hot tea—chai for you, and lemon for you—and get down to brass tacks.”

“Madame Nasirah—” Ahmad said.

“Why, why yes! Hmm, I suppose with all these new gadgets and doodads, they probably have to add in an instruction manual or two to keep the players’ heads on straight. I am indeed Madame Nasirah, your Gamekeeper, and I am here to let you know how—”

The words and the woman both froze. It took Ahmad a moment to realize that Winnie was standing there, grasping Madame Nasirah’s wrist. He hadn’t even noticed her slinking forward, eyes narrowed and jaw set.

“That’s enough, Madame Nasirah,” Winnie said, holding the woman’s gaze steadily. “Cut the act. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I have no idea what—”

Winnie held on, it seemed a little more tightly, and continued to stare in a way that would have had Ahmad shifting uncomfortably in his own skin.

“Yes. You do. Believe it or not, I know a lot about people pretending. I know about them pretending things are okay when things really aren’t. I know about them acting like they can’t see you when they can. I know that really well.”

Something else occurred to Ahmad. “Wait! You remembered our tea orders, too! And you haven’t poured from the pot yet!”

“I don’t know—” Madame Nasirah started indignantly, but Winnie shook her wrist.

“Don’t lie to us. You know who we are.”

After a long, charged moment, Madame Nasirah looked away and shook her head wryly. The pot bobbed up and down in her hands. A grim smile tugged at her lips.

“Yes. You’re right. I do. I’m sorry, my dear. There are certain roles I must take on in this world, as do you. But you will continue to find that out for yourself.”