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The footage fades out there, leaving the reporter grinning and saying something through the muted screen, but I don’t need to hear their words to understand what happened.

We’ve been played.

My eyes spear toward Scarlett, Hawke, and Bentley, and I instantly see the familiar silver box in Scarlett’s hand—a box that is open, andempty.

The nano drones.

They were never deactivated.

Everything we did, every word we said...

It was all caught on camera, with the whole world watching—and watchinglive, if the first footage I saw of us here in the foyer is any indication.

Charlie is standing so close to me that I’m unsure which of us is shaking more. I feel violated, knowing my unfiltered words were heard by millions. Everything I shared about the deaths of my birth parents, about Summer, about Maddox, about—God, the drugging and DUI... I’m going to be sick. Charlie, too, revealed things I know she never would have wanted others to hear, especially her grief and her revelations about her life and future. We shared the deepest parts of ourselves, never once imagining that there might be an audience watching as we did so.

I have to swallow back bile as I stare incredulously at Hawke, Bentley, and Scarlett, ignoring Scarlett’s question about our health to instead say, through clenched teeth, “Someone had better start talking. Right now.”

“It was my idea,” Gabe speaks up. “Mine, and Valentina’s.”

My stomach drops, my earlier fears proving true, even if I still don’t understand.

“Who the hell is Valentina?” Charlie’s voice is hoarse, telling me that she, too, has figured out that we’ve been deceived.

“Valentina Martínez, director ofTitan’s War, and close friends with Rykon here,” Gabe says, motioning to Hawke. “She’s the one who managed to get him andHawke’s Wild Worldon board to help improve Zander’s public image. But early approval projections showed it would take more than just a single episode to get the results we needed in the time we had, so we came up with the idea to stream your whole trip—or your waking hours, at least—in order to generate more interest from the wider public. Reality television, uncut.”

He misreads our horrified faces and quickly goes on, “Don’t worry, we also provided a recap at the end of each day for viewers who only wanted to watch the more dramatic moments, but the unedited streaming option was the real audience-grabber. You should have seen the reaction once people realized they’d get to have unrestricted, real-time access to your adventure, right from their living rooms.”

“Real-time,” Charlie repeats weakly. “As in...?”

Scarlett jumps in to confirm what I’ve already realized, “Since the moment you left on Tuesday, up until you set foot in this foyer a few minutes ago, everything you’ve said and done has been streaming live.” She waves the box in her hand, grimacing slightly as she adds, “I may have told atinyfib about the nano drones—they weren’t prototypes, and they were fully waterproof. They stayed with you every step of the way, even in the underwater tunnel. I’m actually surprised you didn’t notice them there, given how small the space was. But I suppose you had other things on your minds.”

Other things—likenot drowning.

I can’t handle what I’m hearing, my body trembling from disbelief and betrayal.

“In our defense,” Gabe says, noting my expression, “it’s your own fault things got so carried away.” He indicates between me and Charlie. “Viewers clued in quickly about the trip being a publicity stunt, but they were intrigued enough to keep watching because of how strained your early exchanges were. It was obvious Charlie was repressing some pretty strong negativity toward you, Zander, which made everyone hungry to know more. Even when you weren’t getting along, your chemistry was off the charts, which led to a social media outcry for more ‘Zarlie’—as they so aptly named you. So we decided to give them what they wanted, orchestrating a situation where you would be forced together, alone.”

Hawke steps forward then, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “It wasn’t meant to go the way it did,” he admits. “The viewers may have been on board with it, but I still had a duty of care to you both—not to mention, my own brand to protect. Once Ben and I were told about the change in plans, I did what I could to make sure you were equipped to deal with the rest of the obstacles on your own, using the two days we had together to give you similar tasks to tackle. After you had some experience under your belts, I was going to fake an injury—the public voted for a broken ankle—and Ben would stay with me while you two finished the rest of the trip alone. But we didn’t anticipate the mudslide and losing our gear, or all the rain that made the final obstacles much more hazardous than they should have been. If we’d known...”

He shakes his head in apology, but all I can think about is what he said after we landed in the mud pool at the base of the mountain, his face thoughtful as he murmured,That wasn’t supposed to happen. His comment had seemed odd at the time, sinceof courseit shouldn’t have happened. But now I understand—the mudslide wasn’t part of the plan, but he capitalized on it to lessen any suspicion Charlie and I might have had about him and Bentley remaining behind, leaving us alone without any cameras.

Or so we thought.

“This is—This is—” Charlie splutters, unable to finish. Finally, she manages to rasp out, “What you did iscompletelyunethical. Never mind how dangerous it was for us—which itwas—but legally speaking, you had no right to?—”

“We did, actually,” Scarlett interrupts, pulling her tablet from her vest and swiping at the screen. “You both signed consent forms agreeing to be livestreamed.”

“We absolutely did not,” I grind out. “I read everything I signed, and?—”

I stop, realizing that’s not true. I read all the liability waivers I filled in before arriving, but Ididn’tread the unending document on Scarlett’s tablet that Charlie and I had to sign on Tuesday morning—the same document Scarlett is now turning around to show us, revealing proof of our own idiocy. I should have trusted my gut and read the damned thing, and the only reason I didn’t was because Gabe told me it was fine.

I’ve already read it all and made the necessary amendments, he said that morning.

Necessary amendments—like us agreeing to be abandoned in a survival situation with hidden cameras streaming our every move.

I glare daggers at my agent, but he only looks back at me calmly, making me realize that deep down, I’m not surprised by his ruthlessness. As much as it pains me to admit it, he was doing what I pay him for, and acting in what he thought were my best interests. I needed to drop my guard and show myself as human to the world, so he created a situation in which that might happen.

He’s right—in a roundabout, messed-up way, I have only myself to blame.