“I talked to Tristan, and he said that sometimes you say weird things when you’re together,” she said.
“Weird things?” Linda scoffed. “Weirder than telling us he needs a woman who can handle ghosts?”
When Deja shrugged, her shoulders cracked. “I’m only trying to help you win.”
Linda turned her lip up at the edge. Deja knew she wasn’t there for Tristan, but Linda wasn’t about to let Deja catch her on camera saying it. “What are you saying I need to do?” she asked.
Deja reached into her pocket and pulled out a wireless ear piece. “Keep this in today, so I can guide you. I know what he likes, so I can help.”
“And, bonus, you can reprimand me when I do things like turn off my mic?”
“That, too.”
Linda took the ear piece and shoved it in. “Happy?”
Deja spoke into her microphone, producing a terrible echo of her voice. “Very.”
As Linda rejoined Sabrina, her mind buzzed. They were manipulating them, sure. Linda had been dealing with manipulation during the entire process. But goading Sabrina to call Marion a bitch, then recording it, was worlds different than what Deja was trying to do to Linda. They had a goddamn contract. Wasn’t that worth something?
Linda fingered the piece in her ear. She’d have to be more careful than ever. She’d have to live inside her part: the cool, unassuming Linda who wanted nothing more than love. She’d have to swallow every ounce of anger as though it were a glass of top-shelf Glenlivet, aged and smoky on her tongue.
• • •
The two women watched in silence as Tristan coaxed Charity to the edge. He helped her settle herself and prepare to rappel, and even from below, Linda could tell how fiercely she gripped the strap.
Charity made her first few steps, then screamed as her strap loosened too quickly. Rather than tighten it, she pulled the wrong way, sending herself flailing to the ground. She let out a yelp as her foot twisted against the manor wall. Sabrina rushed to her first, hands extended to catch her as she fell. Sabrina eased Charity to sit on the ground. Linda stood off to the side, unsure how the cameras would want her to act.
“You okay?” Sabrina said.
Deja glanced up at the cameraman on the roof. He gave a thumbs-up to signify he did indeed get a shot of the fall from above. Satisfied, Deja moved to Charity’s side. “What’s the damage?” she said as Charity flexed her foot back and forth.
Tristan touched down as Charity waved Deja away. “I’m fine enough,” Charity said.
“Seems like a sprain,” Sabrina said. “Should be okay with a little rest, but it’ll be vulnerable to further injury. She shouldn’t re-do the rappelling, or do any more extreme sports.” Sabrina shot Deja a dirty look. “Charity, does it hurt to move it?”
“Only a little.” Charity moved the ankle in a circle. “I’ll be okay.”
Sabrina looked up at Deja while Linda wrung her hands. “Do we have an ankle brace?”
“Oh, sure.” Deja placed her hands on her hips. “In the full-service medical facility.”
“An ACE bandage then? And maybe a small length of metal to stabilize?” Sabrina said.
“Do you need me to get something?” Linda asked, but her voice was lost to the air. Deja nodded to Sabrina and called into her walkie talkie for assistance. Linda’s eyebrows drew together, flexing her own feet in her shoes, wincing at the pain Charity must feel. It wasn’t like her to feel someone else’s pain. The sensation surprised her, and her mouth went dry as she struggled to find her lines.
“This will look great in my heels,” Charity said.
“No heels,” Sabrina said. “Flats only—and I doubt you’ll be able to get into those.”
“I was kidding,” Charity said. “Everyone knows I’m going home tonight anyway.”
Tristan frowned, then leaned into Charity’s already crowded space. “Don’t say that.”
“Yes, don’t say that,” Deja said.
“Wait, we aren’t going to do the elimination when Charity is injured, are we?” Linda spoke loudly this time, determined to gather an answer, any answer. That old heart was rising again into her chest, and she clenched her fists as she failed to let it go.
“You bet we are,” Deja said. “We’re on a schedule here, Meadows.”
“But she can’t stand!”
Deja shrugged. “Then she’ll sit.”
“I’m right here,” Charity said as she held out her hand for Sabrina to help her up. She steadied herself on her feet. “And I can stand fine.”
“Careful,” Sabrina said. “You don’t want to injure it more.”
“Help me inside,” Charity said. “You have filming to do out here.”
Sabrina nodded at Linda, Marion, and Tristan, before helping Charity to hobble inside the manor, away from the camera’s prying lenses. Tristan pulled his GoPro off his forehead and tossed it at Deja’s feet.
“What is your problem?” Deja said.
“I’m tired of performing,” he said.
“You’re being paid to be here,” Deja said. “You agreed to perform for us.”
Tristan glanced over at Marion, tossing his head as the cords of his neck bulged. He wove one hand through his hair, gripping it at the root, silent as he waited for Marion to back him up.
