The Waiting Room, Part 1

The sealed envelope dropped into the fire, and flames lapped at it greedily. Valerie watched the paper curl and smoke and eventually turn to ash. The scales clicked and slowly tilted. A drop of blood pooled at the tip of her finger before surrendering to gravity.

The door opened as she felt a knot forming in her stomach.

***

The room was not quite cramped, though not especially large either. It had no windows. Along each of the four walls was a row of four chairs. To Valerie's left sat a woman with dark hair and sharp eyes. To her right was a bookish-looking girl wearing glasses and mousy brown hair in pigtails. And on the opposite side of the room, near the other door, was a blond, clean-shaven man sporting a suit and tie, impatiently tapping his heel. All three looked up at Valerie when she entered, then quickly lost interest. The air was stale and it was quiet, except for the ticking—four identical clocks, one on each wall, all clicking in unison.

Valerie sat in a chair near the door she entered from. She sat, but she did not relax. Her emerald eyes scanned the room again. It was undoubtedly a waiting room—black leather chairs with low backs, off-white carpet, off-white walls, fluorescent lighting—but something was deliberate and purposeful about it. Valerie looked back at the door. Some part of her wanted to leave. Then movement above the door caught her attention.

"How long has that been counting?"

The other three followed her gaze to the red numbers. Fifty-nine minutes and five seconds. Fifty-nine minutes and four seconds. Tick. Tock.

"I didn't notice that until now," the man in the suit said.

The other two hadn't either, judging from their vaguely confused expressions.

"Have any of you done this before?" Valerie asked.

Heads shook.

"What about you?"

"It's my first time too, but..." Valerie looked at the door again. It was too late to leave, she realized.

"But what?" The man crossed his arms.

"I think it's already started."

The dark-haired woman raised a hand to her chest. The pigtailed girl stared at the countdown, wide-eyed. The man in the suit adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.

"I see. A reasonable conclusion, miss." He stood, buttoning his jacket. "In that case—"

The dark-haired woman rushed past him, grabbing at the other door. When it didn't budge, she rapped her knuckles against it. Valerie could tell from the sound that it was fake, that there was only one way out. Of course, the woman, whose expression was flat even as her movements betrayed panic, tried the other door too. And, of course, it was locked. Fifty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds.

"In that case," the blond man resumed, "all we have to do is find a way to open that door before the timer reaches zero."

He nodded proudly to himself as if he hadn't just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"We have plenty of time. Why don't we all introduce ourselves? I'll go first." He cleared his throat again. "I am Victor Steele; you may have heard of me. A pleasure to be working with you, ladies."

The only responses were blank stares.

"None of you, really?"

"It rings a bell. Maybe. Sorry, I don't really keep up with news or celebrities or anything." Valerie got to her feet with an apologetic smile. "I'm Valerie, you can call me Val. Nice to meet you."

"Clara," the dark-haired woman said.

They turned to the bespectacled girl.

"Um. Hazel. I'll try to stay out of everyone's way."

Victor clapped his hands together. "Val, Clara, and Hazel. Excellent. To facilitate our cooperation, I suggest we keep channels of communication open and freely share information between us."

Valerie waited for him to continue, but when he didn't, she spoke up. "Why don't we start by investigating everything in the room? Look for anything that could be a clue, or a puzzle that needs solved."

Victor nodded as if he had made the call himself, and everyone started their search.

By the time the countdown reached forty-eight minutes, Valerie had identified three things in the room she deemed important. The first was the clocks. In addition to being identical—the same nondescript, black-rimmed clocks you might find in any office or school—all four were set to precisely the same time: just past noon. She had no way of verifying that this was the real time, as her personal effects had been taken by the Association for safekeeping long before she entered the room. She asked Victor if he had a watch, but that too had been taken. Removing the clocks from the wall also proved to be impossible; they were firmly fixed in place.

Secondly, a small Bible was placed atop one of the four side tables. Valerie found this strange, as no other reading materials were present, not even some old magazines you might expect to find in a waiting room. It was an English Standard Version translation, and seemed to be quite new, but Valerie found nothing of note when she flipped through it.

Lastly, the tables themselves, or more specifically, their drawers. One of the four was open. Valerie pulled the drawer out as far as it would go, but nothing was inside. The other three, however, were sealed shut.

"Did anyone take anything from this drawer?" she asked, pointing at the open one.

No one had. She reached inside the small space and explored with her fingers, but still found nothing. She did notice that the tables, unlike the chairs, were fixed to the ground somehow.

Victor clapped again, startling Valerie from her thoughts.

"So what have we got? Anything interesting? Any ideas?"

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"We'll keep thinking on it, then." He gestured with his palms.

Nothing of interest happened for more than ten minutes after that, and the air felt like it was getting a little thin. Victor and Clara seemed to be doing alright, but Valerie noticed that Hazel was wringing her hands and looked like she might burst into tears at any moment. Valerie sat beside her. Now that she saw her up close, Hazel looked even younger than Valerie had initially thought.

"How old are you?"

Hazel looked at her and eventually said, "Eighteen."

"Eighteen? I'm not even thirty and you're making me feel old." Valerie chuckled. "I don't mean to pry, but there have to be better paths in life for an eighteen-year-old girl that won't end up with you in... a place like this."

"I have my reasons," Hazel said softly.

"Yeah. Me too."

A silence settled, though not an uncomfortable one. The poor girl seemed to relax a bit.

"Look, I don't want to put too much pressure on you, but Victor's right about one thing," Valerie said softly. "We need to work together. All of us. If you think of anything, even if it seems stupid, speak up. Or at least come and talk to me. Seriously, anything."

Valerie smiled, and Hazel hesitantly smiled back.

"Any updates?" Victor called.

Valerie rolled her eyes, which made Hazel giggle, but before she could respond, Clara spoke up.

"What about you? Anything you'd like to contribute to the group effort?"

Victor laughed. "I'm afraid solving puzzles isn't really my thing."

"I could tell."

Victor leveled his gaze on her. Clara sat upright, her expression stony.

"What are you trying to say?" His voice had dropped an octave.

"Nothing much. You just seem more like the middle manager type."

"Then you should know, I'm the CEO of—"

"You were the CEO. I know who you are, Victor Steele."

"Then would it kill you to show a little respect?" Victor was pacing in front of Clara's seat.

"Hey, now..." Valerie made a half-hearted attempt to intervene.

"How would that help us right now? Can I unlock that door with respect?"

Victor continued pacing. Tick. Tock.

"I don't really care if you can't help us solve the puzzle," Clara said, "but at least do us the favor of being quiet."

The argument continued, but Valerie wasn't listening. She had noticed something about the door when Clara pointed at it. The keyhole on the handle was strange; it was slightly bigger than one might expect and formed a cross shape. She knelt, tracing its shape with her finger. She got the sense that something was missing.

She got the sense that someone was lying.

Thirty minutes and forty-four seconds remained.