Page 20

Queen's Gambit

T he chessboard of my life has always been rigged. I was born a pawn in my parents’ game of power, moved across their corrupt landscape to serve whatever strategy served them best. But pawns have potential—reach the other side of the board, and even the weakest piece can transform into something lethal.

"We need to be strategic about this," Erik says, pacing the length of my dorm room. The USB drive sits next to me on the bed like a landmine. "If your parents really are watching us, we can't afford any missteps."

I watch him move back and forth like a caged animal. It's been two days since I showed him the emails, and he's been in constant motion, his body unable to contain the rage and determination coursing through him. It's both beautiful and terrifying to witness.

"They're not just watching," I remind him, slipping the drive back into the pocket of my uniform skirt. "They're planning. And if they've already started preparing for the gathering or worst-case scenario, Munich, we don't have much time."

The word 'Munich' hangs in the air between us, heavy with implications Erik can only begin to understand. He knows the basics now—that it's a facility where my parents "recalibrate" those who pose threats to their operation, that I was sent there after getting too close to Alex, and that the methods used there leave invisible but permanent scars. But he can't truly comprehend the horror of that place, the clinical efficiency with which they break a person down and rebuild them into something compliant and hollow.

"I still think we should go straight to my brother," Erik says, running a hand through his hair for what must be the hundredth time. "With this evidence?—"

"I agree, but it's not like either one of us can leave the island," I cut him off. "Besides, there's still a risk that this will get in the wrong hands. Thinking just about New York, my father plays poker with the police commissioner every month. I've personally met several FBI agents whose kids got into Harvard thanks to my parents’ connections. There's more than a handful of judges who attended the parties, and if I'm not mistaken, I was even forced to entertain one or two." I shake my head. "I'm not sure there's anyone we can trust, Erik. No one who isn't already bought and paid for."

He stops pacing, fixing me with those intense gray eyes. "My brother isn't. I'm certain of it."

I've heard about David Stone before—Erik's older brother, the straight arrow who made it through law school despite Erik's drug scandal and now works for a district attorney's office in Boston. According to Erik, he's the most ethical person he knows, incorruptible and fiercely protective of his younger brother.

"How do we know he's not already on their radar?" I ask. "If they've been investigating you, they've certainly looked into your family."

"David's different," Erik insists. "He's never been to any of those parties, never taken a bribe, never compromised his principles. And he's smart—he'll know how to handle this information without exposing us."

The idea is tempting, but the risk feels astronomical. "Okay, fine. Let's say that even if we could trust him, how would we contact him? Every call, every email, every text is probably being monitored."

A soft knock interrupts our conversation. I tense, immediately on alert. Nobody should be at my door—Belle's at cheer practice, and everyone else knows to keep their distance. Erik and I exchange a glance before he moves to stand behind the door as I open it a crack.

Professor Austin stands in the hallway, looking both ways before leaning closer to the door. "We need to talk," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "Let me in."

I hesitate, then open the door wider, revealing Erik behind it. Professor Austin's eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't comment on finding him in my room. Instead, he steps inside quickly, closing the door behind him.

"What do you want?" Erik asks, positioning himself slightly in front of me—a protective gesture that would normally irritate me but now fills me with warmth.

"To help," Professor Austin says simply. He looks different outside the classroom—less formal, more human somehow. "I've done some research on my own, and Luna's family… they're not people you want to cross. But they're also not people who should be allowed to continue operating unchecked."

"And why would you risk getting involved?" I ask, suspicion coloring my tone. "It's dangerous."

He meets my eyes, and there's something in his gaze I don't expect—not pity or fear or even determination, but understanding. "Because sometimes, you have to choose between what's easy and what's right."

"Is this about the blackmail?" I press. "Because if you're worried I'll release that video?—"

"This isn't about that," he interrupts, surprising me. "Though I'd appreciate that never seeing the light of day. This is about doing the right thing. I like to think of myself as a good person, and if I ignore this, I'm afraid I won't be able to live with myself."

Erik looks between us, confusion evident on his face. "What blackmail? What video?"

"It's not important," I say quickly, then turn back to Professor Austin.

He looks between Erik and me. "You need help, and I'm in a position to provide it. I understand the technical side of things, the security measures needed to communicate safely. And I don't have any connections to your family, which makes me less of a target for surveillance."

Erik steps forward. "My brother is a prosecutor in Boston. If we could get him this evidence?—"

"We'd need to be extremely careful," Professor Austin interrupts. "Digital communications are too risky. It would have to be an in-person handoff, somewhere outside their usual surveillance network."

"And how exactly would we manage that?" I ask. "We can't exactly leave the island without raising suspicions."

Professor Austin considers this. "I have personal days accumulated. I could request time off to visit family—my mother lives in New Hampshire, which isn't far from Boston. No one would question it."

"And you'd what, just happen to meet David while you're there?" I ask skeptically.

"If we could arrange it securely," he replies. "The trick is getting in touch with him without leaving an electronic trail."

Erik runs a hand through his hair again, thinking. "David uses an encrypted messaging app for sensitive communications with witnesses. If I could get a burner phone…"

"I can handle that," Professor Austin says. "I'm driving into town tomorrow for supplies. I could purchase one with cash."

I look between them, hope and fear warring in my chest. I don't tell them that I have a burner phone in my room. This could work—or it could be the last mistake we ever make. Either way, it's all happening too fast for me to think it through. "Even if this works, even if we get the evidence to David, what happens then? My parents will know someone betrayed them."

"Which is why we need to throw them off the scent," Erik says, his expression turning calculating. "Make them think they've won, that we're no longer a threat."

"How do we do that?" I ask.

A slow smile spreads across Erik's face. "We stage an argument. Public and dramatic. It needs to be thorough enough that even Belle will believe it."

The thought sends a pang through my chest, even though I know it would be fake. "You think they'll buy it?"

"They will if we sell it," he says. "You're good at making scenes, Luna. And I can play the heartbroken ex-friend pretty convincingly."

Professor Austin nods. "It could work. Give them what they want, make them think their threats were effective, while we work behind the scenes." He turns to me. "But this is incredibly dangerous for all of us. You need to be certain it's worth the risk."

I think about the emails, about next month's gathering, about what they're planning for Erik in Munich if he doesn't meet their expectations during the event. I think about the years of parties, of pills dissolving on my tongue, of hands touching me without consent. I think about Alex, about Dougie, about Nicolas, Max, and all the others I've used and been used by. I think about Belle, a pawn in her own family's game, just like me.

"It's worth it," I say finally, my voice stronger than I expected. "They need to be stopped. Whatever it takes."

Erik reaches for my hand, his touch warm and grounding. "We do this together or not at all. If you're in, I'm in."

I squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "I'm in."

"Then it's settled," Professor Austin says. "Tomorrow, I'll get the burner phone. Erik, you'll need to compose a message for your brother that explains enough to get his attention but doesn't reveal too much. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll put in an urgent request for my personal days on account of my mother falling ill. If everything goes well, I should be able to leave immediately."

"And we'll stage the argument," I add. "It needs to be public, messy, the kind of thing that gets everyone talking."

"The dining hall," Erik suggests. "During lunch rush."

I nod. "Perfect. I'll be the heartless bitch who was just using you. You'll be the na?ve guy who thought he could save me."

Erik's mouth quirks in a half-smile. "Method acting at its finest."

Professor Austin watches us with an unreadable expression. "You two should minimize contact after the… performance. At least in public. If you need to communicate, do it through me. I'll be the go-between."

"And once you're in Boston?" I ask.

"I'll meet with David, show him what we have, and let him determine the best course of action," he explains. "He'll need time to build a case, gather additional evidence, identify which jurisdictions to involve."

"Time we may not have," I remind him. "Once my parents realize their emails have been accessed, if they haven’t already…"

"They won't," he assures me. "I covered our tracks. As far as their security team can tell, no one's been in those accounts."

I wish I could share his confidence, but I've spent too many years watching my parents stay one step ahead of everyone. "Just make sure David understands what he's dealing with. These aren't ordinary criminals who care about getting caught—they're powerful people who believe they're untouchable. And for as long as I can remember, they've been right."

Erik's grip on my hand tightens. "Not this time."

The certainty in his voice almost makes me believe him. Almost.

Professor Austin stands, straightening his jacket in a gesture that reminds me he's still my teacher, despite everything else that's happened between us. "I should go. The longer I'm here, the more questions it will raise." He pauses at the door. "Be careful. Both of you. This isn't a game."

"We know," Erik replies solemnly. "Thank you."

Once he's gone, silence settles between us. Erik still holds my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. It's such a small gesture, but it anchors me in the storm of my thoughts.

"Do we trust him?" I ask quietly.

Erik considers the question. "I trust that he wants to do the right thing. Whether he can actually help us remains to be seen."

I lean my head against his shoulder, the events of the day catching up with me. "Everything could go wrong."

"Or everything could go right," he counters, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Either way, we're fighting back. That's what matters."

We stay like that for a long time, drawing comfort from each other's presence as night falls outside my window. Tomorrow, we'll set our plan in motion. Tomorrow, we'll start fighting back.

But tonight, in this quiet moment, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, there's a way out of the darkness after all.