Page 94 of The Grandest Game

Silence, again—and then a familiar, if tinny, voice: “No, sunshine, you don’t.”

Chapter 68

ROHAN

Alack of light did little to impede Rohan’s search of the room—in particular, the floorboards and walls. In a game of his design, if the lights had gone out, especially this close to the end of the game, it would have been because he’d hidden a flashlight for the players to find.

A challenge.

A twist.

A way of turning up the heat.

And yet… Savannahwasn’tsearching. Rohan listened for her movements—they were slight, targeted. She was giving their objects a thorough examination. He listened harder. The fan opened, and the fan closed.

You’re not looking for a button or a switch, are you, love? You aren’t looking for a light source at all.

Rohan had been taught from a young age to question every assumption, to come at problems from every angle. “You know whatI find fascinating, Savvy? Tells.” He allowed her exactly one second to ponder that. “A sudden lack of motion. Too much eye contact. Too little. A tightening of the throat or shoulders. A change in pitch. The slightest flex in one specific muscle in the cheek. Even the way a person stacks their chips can tell me everything I need to know.”

Rohan paused again, listening for the sound of her breathing through the darkness.

“The fact that you are not searching for a light source, or even a button or switch on those objects, is a tell.”

“Of what?”

“Nicely paced reply,” Rohan murmured, “just enough challenge in your tone. But the body never lies, love.”

“You can’t see my body. And don’t call melove.”

“That took you a quarter-second too long, Savvy. You don’t believe the power outage is part of the game.”

Silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Rohan challenged.

He could practicallyhearthe arch of her brow through the dark. “If I told you every time you were wrong about something, there would hardly be time for anything else.”

Rohan recognized deflection when he heard it. His brain connected the dots—one after another after another. “Are you aware,” he said, testing her, “that some players in this game have sponsors?” No reply from Savannah. “Perhapsyoursponsor calls it something different.”

Silence.

“You were one of the Hawthorne heiress’s personal picks for this game,” Rohan continued, “so whoever approached you would have had a very narrow window of time in which to do so.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” That she’dreplied at all, let alone with a bluff that weak, he took as a sign to push a little more.

“Now,whywould your sponsor kill the power? Surely it’s not just to distract the other teams while you stay focused. To distract the game makers, perhaps? But from what, exactly? And how?”

There were few things Rohan’s mind loved more than interlocking questions. Solve one, and the answers became apparent, all the way down.

Savannah was doing thisfor her father.

Rohan wasn’t there—yet. But with each second that passed, he could feel himself getting a little closer. In the meantime…

“A less scrupulous individual than myself,” he told Savannah, “might be considering a bit of blackmail right now, but I have no interest in gaining yourcompliance.” Rohan took a step toward her, and he made sure it was audible. “I am not looking for an obedient little piece to move around the board, Savvy.”

Not anymore.

“I am looking,” Rohan continued, with another, audible step, “for an alliance. A partner.”