Chapter 21: Three Offers

The ballroom stopped.

Nobody had frozen mid-gasp, exactly. They had simply gone still, two hundred people with their mouths open and their phones in the air.

The only thing moving was a thin, tinny tune from somewhere behind my left ear.

It was the quartet's birthday song, two bars of it, looping.

"Your call is important to us," said the voice. "Please hold."

"June," Thatcher said.

He was moving. He could hear it too.

"It put us on hold," I said.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I know exactly where we are."

I had the sheet in my hand. I turned the laminated card over.

On the back, under my tally of nos, in my own handwriting from four years ago, was a script.

Step one, the standard close. Step two, the save. Step three, the final offer. Step four, ask why.

I used to read it between calls to keep my voice from shaking.

"June, I need you to tell me what is happening."

"It's a retention flow. They've been running one on us since March."

"A what?"

"Thatcher, let me work."

He closed his mouth and put his hand over it, for emphasis.

The tune stopped.

"Thank you for holding," said the voice. "Host, you have completed the quest. To claim your reward, say 'Claim.'"

"No," I said.

Thatcher's whole body sagged against the podium.

"Understood," said the voice. "Before you decide, we'd like to offer you a special arrangement."

"There it is," I said. "That's the save."

"The Target may remain alive. In exchange, the Target will forget the host entirely. All memory of the host will be removed at no charge."

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