Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Otaku56, RosesAndThorns, RichBitch124,” I read. “This is really how they do things. No one knows for sure who they’re daring to—”
A window popped on the screen, making me jump.
“It’s done that five times in the last hour,” Wilder said. “This is what Montana was talking about. When enough people are logged in, the system automatically starts up a game. It picks two people randomly.”
My head bobbed. “One to give the truth or dare, and one to accept it. Want to be in the club, then you have to play. No one sits on the sidelines.”
“Check out what people are asked to do,” he said. “No one knows who they’re talking to, so for truth they have to find out a truth instead. ‘Find out if it’s true Harlow Peters is sleeping with her Chem T.A. for better grades.’ ‘Find out if it’s true Cortland Holmes went to rehab last summer.’
“I went back through the history and found truths based on our lists. ‘Find out if it’s true Wesley took locker room shots of the girls in high school.’ ‘Find out if it’s true Owen Thasher assaulted the caterer’s assistant.’” Wilder tapped the screen. “You click on these and there’re photos, PDFs, videos, links, whatever it takes to show proof of the truth. Whoever got Wesley’s truth, showed his laptop and the file he has with all the pictures. This is prime blackmail material, Luna.”
“It’s like the first club too,” I whispered. “They went after people’s truths instead of giving their own too. Whoever restarted this must’ve known about the original club. Heard it from their father. That gets us closer to who is running it now.”
“Going back that far, hacking won’t help me find the members of the original club.”
“It’s okay,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “I know exactly who to ask. About the private dares. How do you do it?”
“It’s as simple as clicking on a name and sending them a message.”
Wilder chose RosesAndThorns. A message box immediately popped up. At the bottom, next to send, was the option to be anonymous. RosesAndThorns didn’t have to know my username if I didn’t want them to. I flicked to the bag of money emoji.
“The reward I’ll give if they accept my dare. You’re right, Wilder. It’s all so simple. Ruining someone’s life is as easy as typing a few sentences.” A thought occurred to me. “But what about the penalties? All these usernames are people, and all these people have done an impressive job keeping this a secret. How do they know to be so scared? Does it say anywhere what happens if they snitch or refuse a dare?”
Wilder’s voice was grave. “Take a look for yourself.” That time, Wilder clicked on Giovanni’s username and brought up his profile.
My eyes widened.
“The hell...” I breathed. “What is this?”
“It’s everything I said. I warned there was something off about this town and the people who live here. Even more so than the average uber-rich village of out-of-touch trust-fund babies and moguls.” He smacked the screen. “The kind of surveillance operation it would take to get this information is off the scale. I mean, we’re talking parabolic microphones, hidden cameras, human plants, spies, trackers!” he shouted, shooting to his feet.
There was no stopping my Wilder when he was on a roll, so I didn’t try.
He paced the length of the carpet. “I’ve been going back and forth on this for the last thirty minutes. At first thought, you’d believe the government is collecting this information. Regalia is home to the majority of the country’s most influential families. The majority of our titans of industry. But again, the government can’t get their hands on the kind of protections that are on this site.
“Someone else wants this info, but why and for what purpose? A foreign government? Possibly. Foreign business leaders? Likely. A well-funded anarchist group? I’d have to go through the list.” Wilder was mostly talking to himself at that point. “One of the Royals? Keeping tabs on everyone for leverage their family can use for three lifetimes. Like Saylor Burkhardt and her scroll.”
“Before it ended up a pile of ash on the carpet,” I reminded. “I’d wonder if Saylor is behind this, but that scroll was old. Much older than six years. Her family has been keeping the Royals under their thumb for a long time. They don’t need this club for blackmail.”
I drifted back to the screen. “But whoever does is doing a scary good job at it.”
Looking back at me wasn’t a list of rules, threats, or penalties. It was a list of Giovanni Natale. Everything he’d never want someone to know about him from birth to death.
The extra toe he was born with that his parents had removed.
His preoccupation with touching himself during his childhood that made not one, but two teachers in two separate grades recommend homeschooling.