Four Childhood Friends Played a Dare Game With Me. They Lied To Me—All For Her Chapter 05
The car entered the restricted route. My mentor took my phone.
“From now on, you’re only your project number.”
“Your old identity. Your relationships. Your communications. All suspended.”
I nodded, “Understood.”
Outside, the city faded into wasteland.
I leaned back.
For the first time, no one would suddenly text me to deliver something, edit a video, clean up their mess.
The quiet felt strange.
Same time. New York.
Nina’s party had started.
Roman on a ladder, hanging the last string lights.
Caleb adjusting the projector.
Julian cutting the five-person cake.
Damon checked the time.
7:05 PM.
I hadn’t shown up.
He texted me.
[Where are you?]
Then he saw my avatar was gray,
He froze. Texted again.
[Elara. Don’t play the blocking game.]
No response.
Roman leaned over. “Still sulking?”
“Blocked me.”
Julian snorted, “Childish.”
“She’ll cave. She always comes back.”
Caleb stopped what he was doing. “The hard drive?”
Nina blinked, “Wasn’t Elara bringing it?”
The doorbell rang.
Damon stood instantly.
The delivery man. A box.
They opened it.
Inside: the hard drive. Competition drafts. Roman’s basketball medal.
Four unsigned letters.
Julian plugged the drive in.
Empty folders.
No first camping trip.
No sixteenth birthday.
No beach photos of the five of us.
Just a new document.
[You wanted a past without me.]
[Now you have one.]
The living room went silent.
Damon grabbed his jacket. “Her house.”
Roman frowned. “Is it that serious?”
“Something’s wrong.”
They got to my house. Door locked.
Curtains drawn.
Nina whispered, “Is Elara hiding from us?”
Damon pulled out a spare key.
The one I gave him when I was ten.
I’d said, if I ever got locked in, he could come save me.
The door opened. The emptiness hit them.
My room-a bed. A desk.
A few hangers swinging in the closet.
Competition materials. Gone.
Passport. License. Medication. All gone.
Roman’s smile finally dropped. “She actually left?”
Caleb picked up the early decision agreement from under the desk leg.
Last night, Damon had shoved it there himself.
He opened it.
First line, bold:
[NASA CLASSIFIED PROJECT]
[Arrival: June 28.]
[Location: Classified Base, California.]
[No private communication. No visitors. No external inquiries.]
My signature.
Signed the night of the dare game.
Caleb’s fingers tightened, “She wasn’t starting in September.”
“She left today.”
Damon snatched the agreement.
Read the last page.
His face went white.
One more line.
Heitial confinement period. Five yeare I
Roman couldn’t believe it, “Five years? She’s not coming back?”
No one answered,
Nina stood in the doorway. Quiet.
“Maybe Elara’s just trying to scare us.”
Damon spun around.
“She cancelled her phone number.”
“How is that a scare?”
First time he’d used that tone with Nina.
Her wounded look froze.
On the table, the group chat still showed its new name.
“New York Five.”
This time, it really was just five.
The car entered the restricted route. My mentor took my phone.
“From now on, you’re only your project number.”
“Your old identity. Your relationships. Your communications. All suspended.”
I nodded, “Understood.”
Outside, the city faded into wasteland.
I leaned back.
For the first time, no one would suddenly text me to deliver something, edit a video, clean up their mess.
The quiet felt strange.
Same time. New York.
Nina’s party had started.
Roman on a ladder, hanging the last string lights.
Caleb adjusting the projector.
Julian cutting the five-person cake.
Damon checked the time.
7:05 PM.
I hadn’t shown up.
He texted me.
[Where are you?]
Then he saw my avatar was gray,
He froze. Texted again.
[Elara. Don’t play the blocking game.]
No response.
Roman leaned over. “Still sulking?”
“Blocked me.”
Julian snorted, “Childish.”
“She’ll cave. She always comes back.”
Caleb stopped what he was doing. “The hard drive?”
Nina blinked, “Wasn’t Elara bringing it?”
The doorbell rang.
Damon stood instantly.
The delivery man. A box.
They opened it.
Inside: the hard drive. Competition drafts. Roman’s basketball medal.
Four unsigned letters.
Julian plugged the drive in.
Empty folders.
No first camping trip.
No sixteenth birthday.
No beach photos of the five of us.
Just a new document.
[You wanted a past without me.]
[Now you have one.]
The living room went silent.
Damon grabbed his jacket. “Her house.”
Roman frowned. “Is it that serious?”
“Something’s wrong.”
They got to my house. Door locked.
Curtains drawn.
Nina whispered, “Is Elara hiding from us?”
Damon pulled out a spare key.
The one I gave him when I was ten.
I’d said, if I ever got locked in, he could come save me.
The door opened. The emptiness hit them.
My room-a bed. A desk.
A few hangers swinging in the closet.
Competition materials. Gone.
Passport. License. Medication. All gone.
Roman’s smile finally dropped. “She actually left?”
Caleb picked up the early decision agreement from under the desk leg.
Last night, Damon had shoved it there himself.
He opened it.
First line, bold:
[NASA CLASSIFIED PROJECT]
[Arrival: June 28.]
[Location: Classified Base, California.]
[No private communication. No visitors. No external inquiries.]
My signature.
Signed the night of the dare game.
Caleb’s fingers tightened, “She wasn’t starting in September.”
“She left today.”
Damon snatched the agreement.
Read the last page.
His face went white.
One more line.
Heitial confinement period. Five yeare I
Roman couldn’t believe it, “Five years? She’s not coming back?”
No one answered,
Nina stood in the doorway. Quiet.
“Maybe Elara’s just trying to scare us.”
Damon spun around.
“She cancelled her phone number.”
“How is that a scare?”
First time he’d used that tone with Nina.
Her wounded look froze.
On the table, the group chat still showed its new name.
“New York Five.”
This time, it really was just five.
The car entered the restricted route. My mentor took my phone.
“From now on, you’re only your project number.”
“Your old identity. Your relationships. Your communications. All suspended.”
I nodded, “Understood.”
Outside, the city faded into wasteland.
I leaned back.
For the first time, no one would suddenly text me to deliver something, edit a video, clean up their mess.
The quiet felt strange.
Same time. New York.
Nina’s party had started.
Roman on a ladder, hanging the last string lights.
Caleb adjusting the projector.
Julian cutting the five-person cake.
Damon checked the time.
7:05 PM.
I hadn’t shown up.
He texted me.
[Where are you?]
Then he saw my avatar was gray,
He froze. Texted again.
[Elara. Don’t play the blocking game.]
No response.
Roman leaned over. “Still sulking?”
“Blocked me.”
Julian snorted, “Childish.”
“She’ll cave. She always comes back.”
Caleb stopped what he was doing. “The hard drive?”
Nina blinked, “Wasn’t Elara bringing it?”
The doorbell rang.
Damon stood instantly.
The delivery man. A box.
They opened it.
Inside: the hard drive. Competition drafts. Roman’s basketball medal.
Four unsigned letters.
Julian plugged the drive in.
Empty folders.
No first camping trip.
No sixteenth birthday.
No beach photos of the five of us.
Just a new document.
[You wanted a past without me.]
[Now you have one.]
The living room went silent.
Damon grabbed his jacket. “Her house.”
Roman frowned. “Is it that serious?”
“Something’s wrong.”
They got to my house. Door locked.
Curtains drawn.
Nina whispered, “Is Elara hiding from us?”
Damon pulled out a spare key.
The one I gave him when I was ten.
I’d said, if I ever got locked in, he could come save me.
The door opened. The emptiness hit them.
My room-a bed. A desk.
A few hangers swinging in the closet.
Competition materials. Gone.
Passport. License. Medication. All gone.
Roman’s smile finally dropped. “She actually left?”
Caleb picked up the early decision agreement from under the desk leg.
Last night, Damon had shoved it there himself.
He opened it.
First line, bold:
[NASA CLASSIFIED PROJECT]
[Arrival: June 28.]
[Location: Classified Base, California.]
[No private communication. No visitors. No external inquiries.]
My signature.
Signed the night of the dare game.
Caleb’s fingers tightened, “She wasn’t starting in September.”
“She left today.”
Damon snatched the agreement.
Read the last page.
His face went white.
One more line.
Heitial confinement period. Five yeare I
Roman couldn’t believe it, “Five years? She’s not coming back?”
No one answered,
Nina stood in the doorway. Quiet.
“Maybe Elara’s just trying to scare us.”
Damon spun around.
“She cancelled her phone number.”
“How is that a scare?”
First time he’d used that tone with Nina.
Her wounded look froze.
On the table, the group chat still showed its new name.
“New York Five.”
This time, it really was just five.
