These Deadly Games(34)

“Is it like him to forget something like that?” Sanchez asked. Forgetting was one theory. Another was that An0nym0us1 swiped the case from Matty’s backpack somehow, and the one from our upstairs bathroom. They wanted Matty to die.

“No, actually,” said Akira. “He panics if he ever leaves his backpack at home and runs back for it.”

“Maybe it fell out in his room or something,” said Zoey.

“The one time he needed it…” Randall’s voice wavered.

Akira sat next to him and clasped his hand.

I bit my lip and glanced at Sanchez, wishing I could tell him what was really happening. But An0nym0us1 was listening, always listening. I couldn’t risk Caelyn’s life.

Besides … what if Sanchez didn’t believe me? If he wouldn’t believe Mom when her arm was covered in welts, how would he believe me without any of An0nym0us1’s messages? I had no real proof they even existed.

“Take the ingredients,” Mr. Bloom insisted again. “Send them to the lab. Let the boy’s parents decide about the cost.” If there was some ingredient in the brownies I hadn’t used, I’d know An0nym0us1 tampered with them while I was at the park. But how long would it take to get the lab results?

“I mean, sure,” said Sanchez, though he shook his head slightly like he thought it was pointless. He flipped over the bag of chocolate chips and read the ingredients, then twisted open the bottle of vanilla extract and sniffed. He frowned, scanning the label. “You know this is almond extract, right?”

Exactly all the blood drained from my face, and my body went rigid and numb. I half expected to look down and see a pool of red around my feet. It couldn’t be almond extract. That was impossible. Impossible.

Randall’s head snapped up. “What?”

“No,” I said. “It’s vanilla extract—”

Sanchez turned the label to me. Pure Almond Extract. But that was impossible.

That’s when everyone glared at me, like what happened to Matty was entirely my fault.





CHAPTER 14


“You knew about Matthew’s nut allergy, correct?” Sanchez asked me.

“No!” My voice came out an octave too high. “I mean, yes, I did, but no, I didn’t use that. I used vanilla extract, I’m sure of it. It said vanilla in the recipe, and I followed the recipe exactly.” I dashed to the cabinet where I’d found the ingredients. “Here.” I grabbed the vanilla extract. “I used this. I know it.”

Zoey’s eyes drilled into my skull. “Then why was the almond stuff out?”

“I thought something tasted strange…” Akira muttered.

“What?” Randall released her hand. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Akira’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize it was nutty at the time … It just tasted weird; I couldn’t put my finger on it…”

As they argued, I breathed hard, clasping my forehead, scrambling to make sense of this, to remember if I’d made a terrible mistake. “I don’t know, I don’t know. I never would have used the almond extract on purpose. I never would’ve let Matty eat those brownies if I did.”

Wasn’t there only one bottle here earlier? I didn’t even know we had almond extract. But maybe in my rush earlier I’d spotted the word extract and assumed it was vanilla. Was this my fault? Was Matty’s allergic reaction a total coincidence? Maybe An0nym0us1 never meant to kill Matty. The brownies had already served their purpose in their game—to make me think a fire would start. While scrambling to gather the ingredients, I might’ve grabbed the wrong bottle of extract. If only I could remember.

Suddenly, the two-way radio on Sanchez’s shoulder crackled. He tilted his ear toward it, somehow understanding the staticky voice on the other end, and went into the living room to reply.

“You killed Matty,” Zoey spat. I flinched like she’d slapped me.

Akira gasped. “Don’t say that.”

“Zoey,” said her mother in a soothing tone, “I’m sure the doctors will do everything they can to save him.” She threw me a troubled look, though.

Sanchez returned looking somewhat frazzled. “I’ve gotta run. Another emergency.” He eyed the brownies and ingredients. “Listen…” He wiped a hand down his face. “Okay, look—I’ll take the brownies and ingredients for analysis, and we’ll continue this conversation later or tomorrow. But I’m sure this was an accident.” He dropped all the ingredients into a big ziplock bag, grabbed the tray, and was out the door. Zoey’s parents went after him, peppering him with questions I couldn’t hear over the pulse roaring in my ears.

My fault. My fault. My fault.

Zoey rounded on me. “How could you?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” My God, how could this be happening? “This can’t be real,” I said.

Matty was fine just an hour ago, playing MortalDusk in the basement. And now he was unconscious, connected to tubes in the ambulance or hospital, in actual mortal peril.

“Well, it is real,” said Zoey. “Matty might be dead because of you. You knew how careful Matty had to be, and you—”

“Hey, that’s enough,” Dylan cut in. “If he had to be so careful, he should have asked what was in the brownies before he ate one.”