Page 112 of One More Chance
Chapter 37
Night had swallowed the day, the sky bruised to ash when I logged into Violet's game. The screen's glow painted my face in cold light. The loading music crawled through my ears; oddly soothing, yet strangely haunting.
The kids were at Dawn's for some action-assassin movie marathon which Liam had talked of nothing else all week. Violet tagged along just to be one of the 'big kids' and Sloane worked the evening shift, covering for a tech who'd called out. Just me and the game that took Violet from me. Me and my thoughts.
My fingers froze above the mouse. A pixelated fox trotted circles beside a mushroom house. This had been Violet's refuge during the divorce in my previous life.Robot Blockshad served as her escape when the world crashed against her too hard, too loud.
Memory dragged me backward to that other life. That future where technology became poison in our veins. Where data proved, without mercy, the damage of social media, smartphones, reality TV, the constant and incessant noise of it all. Artificial connections breeding realisolation. Social media promising connection but delivering loneliness wrapped in perfect filters.
We'd invited it all in. Every algorithm, every infinite doom scroll. We thought we were evolving. Instead, we were distractedly dying.
How different would that world have been if we hadn't collectively surrendered our attention like lambs to slaughter? Would Violet even have needed this digital escape if the world outside hadn't fractured into jagged, screaming pieces?
Pain spread beneath my ribs as I pushed the thoughts away. The narrative in this life was already moving a different direction from the one I knew. Regardless, I knew I wasn't the hero of her story. But maybe keeping the monsters out was enough.
The pixel character sat on screen, blinking up expectantly. I didn't move.
I skimmed the chat log, my plan already spreading its roots. For weeks, I'd lurked, watching every interaction from the shadows. Violet had sworn not to reveal I was a parent in the channel. To her, it was a game. Our little secret joke.
She didn't know the truth: that her father haunted her game's chat channel, tracking every username that lingered too long, said too little, said too much.
Most chats were harmless. A few weird ones I shut down fast. Then I saw it. The one I'd been waiting for.
Prince_Harming has sent you a direct message.
My pulse quickened.There's my monster.
Prince_Harming: Hey! Love your screen name DogsRbetta. Wanna play together?
I stared at the message. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
DogsRbetta: Prefer to hang out lrl insted.
The reply came fast.
Prince_Harming: Let’s hang out!
There it was. The hook. Swallowed whole by a monster who took Violet away in my previous life.
Things unfolded quickly after that. Men like him always hunt, always hunger for the next easy target. I fed him a fake age, told him I was alone, and could find a ride. After a brief dance of messages, he dropped a GPS pin. It was bold, sloppy and disgusting.
I checked the forecast. Rain was coming. Perfect.
I grabbed my phone, my pulse steady now, sharpened to purpose. I dialed the number burned into my memory and waited. One ring. Two. Three.
"Levi, it's late for a call. Is everything okay?" Charlie's voice cut through, calm but edged.
"He took the bait." Silence stretched between us. I could practically hear him calculating, already working out his side of the alibi if shit turned sideways.
Finally, he breathed out. "Understood. When?"
"Tonight." I pulled the small duffel from its hiding place behind shoe boxes. Packed months ago when this seed first took root. Tactical boots and balaclava. Black thermal gear. Gloves. A burner phone.
Things I'd never imagined seeing outside of a suspense thriller. But thanks to Sloane's true crime obsession, I knew the setup.
Charlie said, "Forecast for tomorrow calls for heavy rain around that warehouse and the surrounding county. Should cover your tracks. If you run into trouble, call my burner. I'll keep it turned on."
"Sure. I don't think I'll need it." I zipped the bag closed with one clean pull, and caught my reflection in the mirror. A stranger stared back. I looked like a commando going to infiltrate a foreign country.
