Page 13 of Close Your Eyes and Count to 10

He blew out an annoyed breath. “Fromwhat?”

Somewhere in the foliage a bird called, long and low. “From you.”

Maverick laughed, his booming voice echoing back at him from the trees, the building. Tavo cracked up, too. Hector and Alex less so. When he looked back at Angeline, she wasn’t laughing at all.

Enchantments loomed behind her, its windows like so many watching eyes.

3

ADELE

Adele knew that Falcão Island was in the middle of the Atlantic and that its tourist season came to an abrupt stop at the end of September, but she’d still somehow expected to step out of the airport into balmy salt air. She’d envisioned blue skies and swaying palm trees.

Instead, as she moved through the automatic doors, hauling her pack, back stiff from the long flight, the sky was a moody dove gray, the air cool and damp. The airport, low, flat, and tiny, was quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling behemoth that was Newark Liberty International. Violet had dropped her off at the terminal in a honking river of other travelers, navigating the flow like the cold-blooded pro she was at pretty much everything. After hugging her daughter tight, then watching the Kia pull away, Adele spent the next couple of hours at the gate thinking she should just go home, that this was by far the most reckless thing she’d ever done.

But here she was.

The churning gray sea was only visible in the distance; she couldn’t hear it or smell it.It seemed flat and far away like an image in a postcard from a place you’d never visit. Her flight had been less than half full. Falcão Island,falcãoPortuguese forhawk, population 150,000, was an emerging destination for adventure tourism, but only in the summer months. About half the local residents lived in Ponte Rico, the largest city in the island chain. Its history was storied, at least according to the internet—earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, European invasion, war. Apparently, it was home to one of Blake’s gamer buddies—that’s how her son had learned about the challenge. What was his name? Hugo? A spelunker, apparently, Hugo’s application for the challenge had been declined. Blake had entered Hugo’s contact information in her phone, saying she could call if she needed anything. Which was sweet, but what sheneededwas for the game to start, for her to win, and to get home to her kids.

Adele glanced around for the car that was supposed to pick her up, but there was no one there for her. A slender young woman with long skinny braids and stylishly torn jeans who’d been on Adele’s flight stepped into the embrace of an older man, then dipped into his waiting car. A middle-aged couple wearing matching navy blue windbreakers, hauling big backpacks, hopped into the single waiting taxi. A group of four fit, young, outdoorsy types piled into a van, their voices bright, laughter loud, making Adele feel inexplicably lonely.

It had taken her a while to get her own oversize pack, stuffed with all manner of gear, from the baggage claim. Now she was the only passenger waiting for ground transportation. She didn’t see another taxi or even any airport workers. Over the loudspeaker, a voice echoed. Even though she’d been studying Portuguese on Duolingo, she didn’t understand a word. She zipped up her light puffer jacket against the chill.

Adele checked her phone, decided to wait a minute before she texted her contact. She didn’t want to seem anxious. Finally, she lugged her heavy pack to lean it against a bench and sat, taking the opportunity to FaceTime Violet and Blake,although she knew it would only weaken her resolve for this whole enterprise.

She tapped on the app, then pressed their last call on the screen. She stared at her own image, fluffed up her wavy dark hair, pulled a smile so that she didn’t look quite so tired; her dark eyes were shadowed by fatigue, skin dull. It was only a few moments before she saw her daughter’s face.

“You made it,” said Violet with her big, heart-melting smile. “What’s it like?”

Adele looked around. Desolate. Deserted. That was the vibe. On the map, it was just a tiny green dot in a sea of blue. Twenty-five hundred kilometers from the US, fifteen hundred from Europe. The quite literal middle of nowhere and nothing. After October there were no more big commercial flights to and from the island.

“A little chilly,” she said, then tried to brighten it. “Quiet. Pretty.”

“Hi, Mom.” Blake pushed his face next to his sister’s. “Mav went live on Photogram and announced the game.”

Blake was the official steward of this enterprise, keeping Adele abreast of everything he read and watched about it online.

She still couldn’t believe she was here. It wasn’t even two weeks since she’d tapped that link, been accepted, requested time off work, jumped through all the Extreme hoops, including a psych evaluation. Which she’d passed apparently. She’d dusted off her camping gear, bought a bunch of new equipment that she couldn’t afford. Reconnected to her inner adventure-seeker, who she told herself was still in there, just dormant since she’d graduated college, married too young, and had two babies by the time she was twenty-five.

From where Adele sat on the bench, she could see a long, winding road heading off toward the horizon. As she watched, a black SUV crested the slight rise and glided toward the airport. That must be her ride. The sight of it moving toward her set her heart to racing. This was it. No turning back now.

“How are you guys?” she asked. “Miss me yet?”

She’d never left her kids before. Certainly, she’d never left them on their own. But together they’d convinced her that they could make meals, get to school, and not burn the house down. It was just a few days at the most. If she won. If she lost, she’d probably be home sooner. With nothing to show for this venture except more bills.

“We’re good,” said Violet. “We’refine.I just made breakfast. Blake’s been studyingdiligentlyfor his math test tomorrow. It’s okay, Mom. You can do this.Wecan do this.”

Another clench on her heart. The SUV drew closer.

Above her, the big sky swirled, black, gray, and white, with fierce patches of blue, a slight drizzle that was more like mist. Off in the distance the swell of low mountains, a rich deep green-black forest.

“Mom,” said Blake, pushing his sister off the screen. “That place, the old hotel. It looks scary. Like even scarier than the other places they’ve done these challenges.”

She and Blake were on some kind of a mom-kid loop—his anxiety could amp up her anxiety and vice versa. Violet was her own entity and always had been from the moment she was born. Violet’s self-possessed newborn gaze told Adele that her daughter would be her own person, separate, distinct. When she looked into Blake’s eyes, it was like she was looking into her own soul.

“Of coursethey’re going to make it look as scary as possible,” said Violet off-screen, ever the pragmatist. “No one would care if it looked easy.”

“Mom,” said Blake, leaning closer to the camera. “The other contestants—remember Wild Cody?”

---