The Waiting Room, Part 3

Hazel scurried into a corner and curled up in a ball with her back to the room, muttering to herself all the while. Valerie put a hand on the wall to steady herself.

"What just happened?" Victor was the one to break the silence.

"I told you, punishment." Clara's voice was cool, but she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the girl shivering in the corner. "The better question is, 'Why?'"

Valerie was reminded of something she once heard her father say: Even an herbivore, given the opportunity and under extreme circumstances, may find itself eating meat.

"Look at this," Victor said grimly.

One of the drawers had opened. From it, he produced a thin metal rod with sharp protrusions on one end. Valerie, realizing what it was, slowly and carefully removed the key from the keyhole. Sure enough, the new piece slid smoothly into the key's groove, effectively transforming it. They had two of the four pieces they needed to solve the puzzle.

"Clara. You next," Victor said.

His sudden declaration caught the other two off guard. They looked at each other, then him.

"We wasted thirty minutes because of you. Val, give her the key."

"You don't get to decide that!" Clara said, shrinking away.

Victor glared down at her. Any hint of his earlier friendly demeanor had been erased.

"Everyone calm down," Valerie said. "There must be a proper solution."

"Maybe this is the proper solution. Maybe only one of us walks out of this room whole."

"If you let him do this, he'll do it to you next," Clara said, turning to Valerie.

Valerie glanced up at the red numbers. "We have time. We can figure this out."

Victor shrugged. "Well, you better think of a better idea in the next fifteen minutes."

He lowered himself into a chair, closed his eyes, and became the most still he'd been since he entered the room.

Tick. Tock.

Valerie gestured to Clara and they took up the corner opposite to Hazel's.

"I can't do this anymore," Clara said.

"We'll be okay."

But Valerie's sentiment rang hollow even in her own ears. Intuitively, she knew—laws, rights, and ethics were pretty words on fragile paper. Within the four walls of that room, especially as their precious seconds trickled away, fate would be decided by the one who had both the mental and physical capability to take control. Valerie had some confidence in her agility and lower body strength, but Victor was almost twice her size, and Clara wasn't any better off in that regard.

"We have to do something about him." Clara shot a glance at Victor.

Valerie wasn't ready to go down that path just yet. She took a deep breath and wondered if this was what it felt like to walk a tightrope.

"Clara, I need you to focus. Why are you here?"

"What?"

"What do you need the money for?"

"Student debt." She pushed hair out of her eyes. "An absurd amount of student debt, if I'm being honest."

"And what did you wager?"

"All of my memories from university. Everything I learned. Which, coincidentally, was worth less than the current balance of my loans. Funny, isn't it?"

Neither of them laughed.

"Okay. Let's focus on that: you need money to pay off your debt, and you don't want to lose your college memories."

Clara looked at Hazel, who hadn't moved from her corner. "I'd rather lose those memories than end up like that."

Valerie clenched her teeth. There wasn't time for this, and giving up wasn't an option for her. Could she solve this on her own? Her gut told her no. She needed another way.

"How far did you go in school? Master's?" Valerie asked.

"Doctorate. Although they might as well have given me a scrap of toilet paper, at least with that I can wipe my—"

"I don't give a damn about that. I need your brain. Or is that as worthless as your degree?" Valerie grabbed Clara by her shoulders. "The clocks. Four identical clocks, all set to the exact same time."

Clara blinked, then blinked again. "Um. If they were different, it might suggest an order for the four of us."

"Right, but they aren't. And we can't change them, I tried."

Clara shrugged. "It implies some kind of order. That's all I have."

"What about the Bible?"

She frowned.

"The Bible you found. Why would that be in this room?"

"It shouldn't be here, so it's safe to assume it's a red herring and ignore it."

Valerie narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure?"

Clara pursed her lips.

Valerie pressed on. "We know we need to open the last two drawers. What haven't we tried?"

"It's a waiting room, maybe we need to wait."

It seemed plausible, but it wasn't really an option for several reasons. Valerie glanced back at Victor, who seemed to be in an almost meditative state.

"What else could a waiting room represent?" Valerie asked.

"What else? You come in, sit down, wait your turn, and then..." There was a long pause. The light in Clara's eyes shifted.

"What? What did you figure out?" Valerie squeezed her shoulders.

"What if trying to unlock the door is correct, it was the order that was incorrect?"

Valerie considered this. "We leave in the order we came in."

"It's the only possibility left." Clara nodded, holding out her hand.

Valerie hesitated. The reasoning was sound, but something felt off. She glanced back at the door—eight minutes left. She looked at Clara, whose expression betrayed just how confident she was in her conclusion. Valerie could give her the key, stay silent, and even if Clara was wrong, the next drawer would likely still open. The knot in her stomach tightened. She found her fingers reaching into her pocket.

Wordlessly, Clara took the key and strode over to the door. Victor opened one eye. The key slid into the keyhole until it hit the back of the chamber with a quiet thunk.

Valerie reached out for something to steady herself, and her hand found the cool leather surface of a book cover.

"Wait." Her voice nearly betrayed her, hardly louder than a whisper. "Clara, stop!"

The dark-haired woman yanked a trembling hand back as if she had touched something hot. Clara and Victor both turned to look at Valerie. Tick. Tock.

Valerie opened the Bible. The bookmark ribbon was placed in the book of Matthew, chapter twenty. As she scanned the page, the final pieces snapped together in her mind.

"Matthew 20:16. 'So the last will be first, and the first last.' The order is reversed."

Clara hesitated. "You don't know that."

"No," Valerie said, joining her at the door, "I don't."

There wasn't time to argue. When Clara frowned and opened her mouth to say something else, Valerie just held up a hand. Victor watched them in silence. Six minutes and thirty-two seconds remained.

Valerie gripped the key. A bead of cold sweat slowly trailed down her back and blood rushed in her ears. For a moment, she wondered what Hazel had seen. She wondered if it was really so simple to break a human being. She wondered if suffering the same fate would be just; after all, who was it that gave Hazel the key so easily? Then she closed her eyes and thought of her father.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Click.

After a few heartbeats more, she opened her eyes again and looked down. She was still in one piece. Victor was standing in front of an empty drawer, holding the third piece of the key. Clara said something to her, but Valerie couldn't make it out—all she heard was the sound of her own laughter. Victor pushed her aside and her knees gave out and she slid to the floor. Still, she laughed and laughed. Somehow, even at the end, Victor and Clara found something to argue about. Valerie watched them furiously gesture at each other, and it only made her laugh harder.

Eventually, Valerie stopped laughing. Victor and Clara had left, and the countdown was frozen at three minutes and thirty-three seconds. She took one last look at Hazel, who was still muttering in her corner. Then Valerie opened the door, which seemed lighter than it was an hour ago, and stepped outside.