How could this happen? When she had done everything right. She had played his Game to save herself.

But playing hadn’t made any difference.

She saw it now. The Game wasn’t a way out.

It was an end.

PLAYER TWO

A game is supposed to be fun.

Something that you do to pass the time, laugh and be merry. A chance to be silly and foolish maybe.

Depends on the game you’re playing, of course.

The evening had become night had become early morning. All in the blink of a thought. She shivered at the cold wind as it whipped from the river hiding behind the buildings and swirled around her. Pulled her coat tighter around her body.

The yard she had reached seemed empty. She couldn’t see much in the black, but she listened for any noise. Any sign she wasn’t alone there.

All she could hear was her own laboured breathing.

This was a way to stop it all.

Play along and it’ll all be okay.

A way out.

A way to unfurl the knot that had grown in her stomach for months.

Years.

It had started with a phone call.

A low voice on the other end of the line. Almost a whisper. She had hung up on the private number four times in ten minutes, but answered the fifth call.

‘Don’t hang up. I need you to listen. For your own good.’

So she had, hearing the soft and soothing tone of it, intoxicating, even as it dripped with venom and horror.

‘We know what you’ve done. We’re going to play a game. You win, no one finds out what you did. You lose… and that’s it for you.’

They knew everything. Everyone she had hurt. Every lie she had told.

The voice gave her only one way out.

This night.

The Game.

She was standing with her back against a wall, waiting.

The traffic on the main road a few hundred yards away quietened momentarily. The black silence that followed began to smother her, amplifying her thoughts as they raced through her head.

Shadows began to take shape around her, dancing into being.

She was alone. Finally.

A noise made her pause.

A shift of weight, of breath that wasn’t hers.

She turned, expecting to see someone emerge from the shadows. For the reality of what she was doing to be revealed. She cocked her head, waiting to hear the noise again. Silence surrounded her, almost claustrophobic in its weight.

There was something about being alone that made you believe in the impossible. Your mind can play tricks on you. Make you believe in something you know not to be real.

This was one of those times.

She needed this to be over. This was the only way. Then she could move on, without the knowledge that she could be exposed. That was the deal.

Still.

She knew she was being watched.