Chapter 1: The Day Everything Changed

I was just about to reach into the box when, all of a sudden, glowing subtitles flickered right in front of my face:

[The broke main character doesn’t even know her parents left gold for her, buried right in the plot behind her house.]

[I heard that plot with the gold was secretly rigged by the main character’s fiancé to give to his true love.]

[That’s right, the guy folded that slip into a triangle so his true love would pick it. The main character is really getting the short end of the stick.]

I looked down, confused. My breath caught. Was I hallucinating? I blinked hard, but the glowing words just hovered there, taunting me.

There really was a slip of paper folded into a triangle in the wooden box.

As my fingers hovered over the box, the morning sun spilled in through the rec center’s windows, catching dust motes in the air. The room smelled faintly of old varnish and burnt coffee from the refreshments table. I glanced around, half-expecting someone to gasp or point, but nobody seemed to notice the floating words. Just the scrape of folding chairs and the low buzz of small-town gossip.

It felt like I was inside a TV show, with someone else’s running commentary popping up where only I could see.

1

[No spoilers please, I just started watching.]

[What’s she staring at? Why hasn’t she picked yet?]

What is going on?

While I stood there dazed, the other folks waiting in line to draw lots started to grumble:

"Hey, let’s keep it moving, folks—some of us gotta get back to work."

"Come on! The rest of us are still waiting."

The voices sounded impatient, someone even tapping their foot against the linoleum. Behind me, I caught the scent of leather work gloves and the sharp tang of motor oil—a sure sign that half the town’s farmers and mechanics were here for their slice of Maple Heights.

I didn’t have time to worry about whether the subtitles were real or not.

Flustered, I gritted my teeth and grabbed the triangular slip of paper.

My palm felt clammy as I pressed the sharp crease of the paper. My heart hammered so loud I was sure the whole room could hear. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry as sawdust. Suddenly aware of every eye in the room on me, the heat of embarrassment prickled up my neck.

Mr. Harlan, the town mayor, opened the slip and read out loud:

"Natalie Carson’s family, plot number 5."

My heart pounded like a drum.

Plot number 5—

It was the plot right behind my house,

The one the subtitles said had gold buried in it.

[What the heck?]

[How did she pick it? Did she suddenly wake up, like she knows what’s coming?]

[Hmm, is the second round of the story going to change too?]

I could practically hear the whispers bounce off the town hall walls, a hush falling over the room before the next name was called. My hands trembled as I clutched the slip, a weird sense of fate tightening around me, both terrifying and electric.