Page 148 of The Most Dangerous Games

“Hey, Wyatt,” Alek calls out. “Where you at?”

They walk into Wyatt’s bedroom. It looks so neat to Alek, the bed made, towels folded on top of the spread. The counters in the bathroom are empty. No products of any kind on the shelf in the shower.

The closet is empty.

Even the empty hangers are neatly hung.

“No sign of that duffel bag he carries,” Jack says. “This is bad.”

“No, it isn’t.” She calls out, “Wyatt!”

Silence.

They walk back into the living room. They take a closer look around.

Nothing appears to be out of place here, either.

It’s when they open the door to the kitchen that they see it on the table.

The necklace with the red button.

Alek stares at it, not moving. Like if she doesn’t move, it won’t be real.

Jack’s voice is low. “He quit,” he says.

Jack doesn’t touch it. He just stares, jaw tight, eyes scanning the room again like Wyatt might step out of a closet and laugh and say got you.

Alek lifts the chain. It’s heavier than it should be.

There’s something else on the table, tucked under the red stone—one sheet of paper, folded once, like it was placed there on purpose. Neat. Centered. Like Wyatt couldn’t leave without making it look right.

Alek opens it.

It’s only a few lines. Handwritten.

She reads silently at first, then out loud because Jack is looking at her like he can’t breathe.

I’m sorry.

I wouldn’t do what he asked. Not like that.

I also realized there’s something important I need to do. I couldn’t do it and stay.

Tell Alek I’m safe.

—W

Alek’s throat tightens on the last line.

Jack takes the paper from her and reads it again, slower, like if he looks hard enough the words will change. Then he crushes it in his fist.

“That kid doesn’t leave notes,” Jack says, voice low and shaking. “He leaves jokes.”

Alek looks back at the empty closet. The folded towels. The cleared shelves. Wyatt didn’t storm out. He packed. And he planned.

Steven Noble

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