Page 106 of Let the Game Begin
“Fantastic, good job, Sherlock,” Neil teased, closing his book.
I was never going to be able to look at a book again without thinking obscene thoughts.
“Let’s see.” Logan got up from his chair, holding the book in both hands. “The music box emerged in the late seventeen hundreds. They are sentimental items, cloaked in mystery and a powerful fascination. Many legends swirl around music boxes, but one of the most significant is that of the famous…” He looked up at me and Neil and then continued to read. “Angel of the Music Box.” Logan appeared to have hit upon exactly what we were looking for, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know exactly what was hidden inside the puzzle.
“Keep going,” I said, sounding uncertain.
“The Angel of the Music Box is one of the earliest folktales about music boxes. It tells the story of a young girl who lived with her father and brother. On her twelfth birthday, her father gifted the girl a music box with an angel inside, promising that the angel would protect her for the rest of her life. The angel was God’s messenger, bringer of justice, peace, and love.”
“So far it doesn’t sound like anything to worry about,” I commented.
“Keep going,” Neil prompted, staring intently at his brother, who immediately resumed his recitation.
“However, the father forbade the little girl to touch the music box, as it was a very fragile and valuable object, and he stored it in his own room. One day, the little girl disobeyed her father and crept into his bedroom to take the object of her desires. But the music box fell to the floor, and the angel shattered into countless pieces.” Logan sighed and glanced up nervously at us before continuing.
“Upon returning to the house, her father found the destroyed music box and shouted at her. He upbraided her for her disobedience but did say that he would attempt to repair the music box. A few days later, the girl entered her home and found the music box sitting on a table as though it were brand new. She turned the crank, the music box opened, and she saw that her angel was no longer inside it; instead there was a monstrous demon. Frightened, the girl backed away and encountered her father. ‘This is your punishment for disobeying me,’ he told her, and the little girl burst into tears,” Logan finished, looking thoughtfully at us.
“So what’s it supposed to mean?” I asked skeptically.
“The devil in the music box basically means punishment,” Logan stated.
“So, we have a raven that symbolizes revenge and an angel painted to look like a demon, which suggests punishment…and…” I rubbed the back of my neck, still confused. I didn’t get the relevance of the music box to the raven and vice versa.
“Maybe the punishment already happened,” Neil said, staring off into space. He’d been silent this whole time, just listening to us. I regarded him carefully. The smile, the charming expression, and the sly look had disappeared completely, giving way to a grave awareness.
“What are you talking about?” Logan asked with a frown.
“That some disobedient person has always paid the price for their actions.” Neil explained in a low voice, causing a frosty silence to descend in his wake.
“And do you know who that might be?” Logan stepped cautiously toward Neil, who slowly fixed his golden stare on his brother’s face.
“No.” Neil swallowed hard, moving closer to Logan. “But whoever it is, I give you my word that nothing is going to happen to our family.” He said it with such simple confidence. There was no fear in those luminous eyes, just a deep sense of responsibility that lay heavily on his shoulders.
“Why would anything happen to the family?” I got up from my chair as agitation began to stir in my blood. He might not have been afraid, but I sure was.
“Because every game has winners and losers, Selene,” he answered inscrutably, and I straightened my spine. I hadn’t heard my name on his lips in a long time; it seemed somehow even more melodious to me.
“So, let’s be winners,” I answered so decisively that Logan’s hazel eyes also darted to me. Neil stared at me in that deep, dark way of his and then smiled pityingly at me, as though convinced that only an idiot could believe we might win at this game.
26
Neil
I was in the living room watching cartoons like usual when I heard my mother’s voice, talking with some girl at the front door.
“Really? That would be amazing, Kimberly! Unfortunately, my schedule at the company means I’m never home, and our previous babysitter is expecting her second child!”
I turned to regard the young woman without any particular interest. The first thing I noticed about her was her long blond hair, falling over her light shirt.
“No problem, Mrs. Miller. We are neighbors, after all. I’d be delighted to look after your kids. Is there another on the way?” The girl smiled, pointing at my mother’s prominent belly where Chloe was waiting.
“Oh, yes. It’s going to be a girl this time.”
“I wish you all the best, Mrs. Miller.” The girl said, her voice delicate and innocent.
“I could come over in the afternoons after school, if that works for you?” the girl offered.
“And you’re in your senior year of high school?”
