If Serendipity was hell, then my time in the police station was purgatory. Of course, the officers kept me separated from the others. They locked me away in one of their interrogation rooms and left me to stew. It went about as I expected from several cop tv shows I watched as a teenager. The lights flickered constantly; air conditioning was non-existent, and the chair they left for me was faulty.

Without a clock in the room, I couldn't tell how long I paced around in that confined space. An hour or two perhaps? Either way, all the time, I spent trapped tested my patience. "Hey!" I slammed my fists repeatedly on the glass window. "I know you bastards are watching me! What do you want?!" Shortly after my outburst, the door opened and in came a man in a dark suit. Held tightly in his hand was a folder. "Stop banging on the window and sit down," He demanded. We went through a short staredown before he sat down first. "About time someone showed up," I joined the man at the table. "So, who the hell are you?" "Agent Oliver Bradley." The man introduced himself. "Oh? An agent? So, am I under arrest or something? 'Cause if not, I'd like to get out of here." "You and your buddies aren't going anywhere. You're all in deep shit," Oliver informed me. He opened the folder in his hand and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Troy Ambrose, age thirty-six, you’re a bartender working at a rundown bar—”

“Got that off my dating site profile, did you? Man, I’m so embarrassed.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Here you are, knowing everything about me, and I don’t know a damn thing about you.”

Oliver slammed his fist on the table. My joke didn’t register. “This isn’t a game! Do you understand me?!”

“You’ve been playing games with me all this time. So, why not have my turn?” I suggested. He looked more than ready to punch me across the face. Bastards got a rise out of me by locking me up and taking away my money. I didn’t plan to make anything easy for them.

“I knew you’d be a real son of a bitch. Good thing I have plenty of time to talk.”

“Don’t I get a chance to have my phone call? How about a lawyer?” I asked.

Oliver threw his hands up in the air and chuckled. “You don’t understand the gravity of your situation, do you? Well, let me explain. You and your friends are going to rot in federal prison for the crimes you committed.”

“And what crimes have I committed?” I inquired.

“Let’s start with illegal gambling for one,” Oliver reclined in his chair, making himself comfortable for perhaps a long interrogation session. “We acquired the security footage from your stay in Serendipity. We saw everything you and your friends did. Manslaughter's the next charge. All that carnage, mayhem, and death. For what? Money?"

I couldn’t refute anything after that. There was nothing I could say that would justify the things the others and I did to survive and leave Serendipity as the winners. We did things that we’d have to live with for the rest of our lives.

“I hope putting your life on the line for that money was worth it, because you’re not going to see a fucking dime.” Oliver spat.

“You’ve got no fucking right!” I shot out of my seat.

Oliver didn’t even flinch. Our roles switched. He remained calm, determined even, while my rage spiked.

“Sit your ass back down,” He demanded. “You’re the one that doesn’t have the right. You’re lucky I don’t throw your ass in a cell right now.”

“Why aren’t you?” I reluctantly returned to my seat. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed as hard as I could to quell my rage hopefully. The money was my reward for the time spent in that hell hole. And yet those government bastards took it away without a second thought. No forethought, no consideration for the struggles everyone went through to get what they wanted.

“I’ve got questions. Answer them, and maybe I can cut you in on a deal.” Oliver proposed. “You’re already going to jail for a long time. So, might as well cut that time down a little bit.”

I gritted my teeth at the mention of jail time. It was as I feared. I escaped from one prison, only to find myself locked away in another. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. No means of escape from the situation. That was it — the end of the road.

“What do you want to know?” I sighed.

“We know you wanted the money, but what were you planning to use it for?” The man questioned. Of course, he had to start the interrogation with a touchy subject. Even I knew my reason wasn’t the most righteous or logical for that matter. But it was mine, and I had to own up to it.

“The IRS was planning to foreclose on the bar where I work. I couldn’t let that happen, so I accepted their invitation to Serendipity.” I answered. That time around, it wasn’t that hard to do. What nearly killed me was waiting for the man’s response.

He nodded his head and continued with the interrogation as if he only needed my answer to confirm his suspicions. “You risked your life and got five other people killed for a bar.”

There wasn’t a question in that statement — only accusation and judgment. I knew no one else would understand my reasoning for the things I did. It was all for the old man — no one else.

“I don’t need to hear shit from you,” I dismissed his words of spite.

“You do. Of all the other reasons I’ve heard from the others, yours and the old man take the cake. I honestly don’t understand how you could’ve survived this long.”

“I’m a survivor,” I said.

“Try, murderer,” Oliver countered. “Granted two of the people that died there weren’t contributors to society, but you got people killed nonetheless."

“Is there another question in there somewhere?”

“No, just stating facts,” Oliver cracked a smile for the first time. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the bastard was playing games with me. “A rundown bar is far more important to you than your life or the lives of others. Well, I hope it was worth it. You’re done, and so is that bar.”

“I don’t care if I’m sent to prison. Please, give the money I earned to a man named Gideon Maynard. At least do that for me.” I desperately pleaded. Even if I rotted away in prison for the rest of my life; if the old man got the money to keep his home, then it was all worth it. My life for his. A small price to pay.

The man seemed unfazed by my desperation. “I’m not doing anything for you,”

Suddenly, the door opened, and Zoey entered. Oliver quickly rose from his seat. Immediate surprise reflected in his eyes.

“Zoey? What are you doing here? You should be resting,” Oliver approached Zoey and placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder. From his body language and soft, concerning tone, something was going on between them. If not, it was one-sided at least.

“I’m fine, Ollie,” Zoey brushed off the man’s hand of comfort. Her usual cold gaze rested on me as she continued, “How much has he told you?”

“Not too much,” Oliver replied. “I’m still trying to get some information out of him.”

“I’ll take over from here,” Zoey pulled up a chair and sat directly across from me. “You’re good to go, Ollie.”

“What? No, I’m staying in here with you.” Oliver shook his head in refusal.

“You’re good to go,” Zoey repeated herself. Only that time, it sounded harsher. Lucky for Oliver, he couldn’t see the look on her face. But his body certainly felt the authority in her demanding voice. The man bit down on his lip and reluctantly left us alone in the room.

“Ollie?” I suddenly asked. “Boyfriend?”

“Ex-husband,” Zoey answered.

“That must be awkward at the workplace,” I joked.

“It can be,” Zoey looked down at the folder left on the table. She scanned through the papers. “Make sure you get your jokes out of the way now, Ambrose. Things aren’t looking good for you.”

“They never do,” I surmised. That was my fact of life. My reality. Good things never lasted long for me. I somehow magnetized misfortune.

“Certainly, Oliver told you that you’re all facing serious jail time.”

“We’re going to rot there.”

“That’s an accurate description. Agreeing to come to that place was the worst mistake any of you could’ve made.” Zoey stated.

I nodded my head in agreement. “For the losers it was. But we won.” I stated. The winners survived, and the losers died. It was unfortunate, but we understood the risks of going in there. Those that didn’t make it out were simply victims of their choices. Not that I didn’t feel bad for them. I just couldn’t let it weigh me down so much.

I wasn’t the sole cause of their deaths.

“And where do you find yourselves now?” The woman countered. She spread her arms out and displayed the interrogation room I found myself trapped inside. I was brought from one prison to another. Not the most accommodating situation. “Seriously, Ambrose, how did you plan for this to end for you?”

“With me leaving Serendipity with my money,” I answered. It was the most honest answer I could give. That was my ignorant belief; my hope. It was the only thing that kept me going through those days of hell. “Had I known a secret agent was hiding among the other players, perhaps I would’ve refused the offer.”

“Federal agent,” Zoey corrected me.

“So, was this your plan from the beginning? Arrest all the players once the games were over? Is that why you were so adamant on trying to keep us all alive?”

“That’s a small part of it,” She admitted. “We arrested most of the staff when we stormed Serendipity.”

“Most?” I inquired.

“Trent’s still out there in the wind,” Zoey sighed as she ran her hand through her hair. “It’s only a matter of time until we catch him.”

“Then what are you wasting time interrogating me for? I’ve got nothing else I could give you guys.” I sighed. The whole situation was hopeless. If I was going to rot in federal prison, then they should’ve gone and thrown me in there already.

“Do you have any regrets?” Zoey suddenly asked. Strangely enough, her tone was soft and concerning.

I sat in silence for a moment. Of course, I had my regrets. I regretted the innocent ones that died in Serendipity, the traumatic events we went through, and the entire outcome. However, I had no one to blame but myself. There were other roads I could’ve taken to avoid the whole thing. But I didn’t take them.

My stubbornness and pride brought me to Serendipity. My desire to save the bar was a mere excuse. I only wanted to show the old man that I could do something worthwhile. Something that I could do to pay him back for everything he’d done for me. But in the end, I failed. There was nothing I could do for him.

Now I’d sit in federal prison without him ever knowing what happened to me. That was perhaps my greatest fear and regret at that moment.

“I do,” I nearly choked on those words as I held back my tears. I wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of her or anyone else ever again. “I’ll accept my punishment. But can you at least leave a message to a man named Gideon Maynard for me?”

“No,” Zoey sternly answered. Afterward, she escorted me out of the room and into the back of a vehicle. She got in the backseat and drove off. I couldn’t see where we headed since the windows were tinted black.

“Are you taking me to prison?” I wondered.

“All this for a bar,” Zoey said in a cold, mocking tone. “You realize how stupid that is, right? I don’t care if the place has sentimental value to you. It’s not worth it.”

“What about you?” I called her out. If the woman planned to chew me out in the car, then I’d do the same. I wasn’t in the mood to take shit from the woman that put herself in the same situation as the rest of us. That hypocrisy wouldn’t stand with me. “You got yourself into that mess as well.”

“It was part of my mission to infiltrate the games,” Zoey countered.

“That’s a good excuse. But I’m not buying it. There was more to this mission, and you know it.” My rebuttal caused the woman to glance at me from the rearview mirror. “I know the look in someone’s eyes when they’re out for revenge.”

I knew them all too well. I had that same look in my eyes for years when I hunted down my father. Every time I made eye contact with Zoey within our stay in Serendipity, I saw my own eyes.

Her glance left me. She returned her attention to the road ahead. Her silence was all the answer that I needed to continue with my pestering.

“What did that organization do to you?” I inquired. “Were they the ones that took your arm and eye?”

Nothing but silence on her end again. Strangely enough, I managed to interpret that silence as the wrong answer.

“No? How about having killed a family member?”

“Keep quiet,” The woman’s low, powerful words kept me silent. Her reaction alone was the answer that I needed. I hit the nail right on the head. Perhaps for once, I wish I hadn’t. We rode around in awkward silence until Zoey suddenly broke it. “My sister…”

“Huh?”

“My sister was killed playing in those games,” Zoey revealed. She spoke with great reluctance. Her voice shook, finding it difficult to continue with her explanation. “We never got along. It was thanks to our mother that we could even stand to be in the same room. But it wasn’t until our mother died that we had our fallout and split apart. I never saw her again until I watched her execution from a videotape; I got off some perp.”

I couldn’t even begin to search for the right words to comfort Zoey. Not even once had she shown an ounce of weakness inside of Serendipity. How could she? That place was as cutthroat as they came. Trusting anyone in that facility warranted death if one wasn’t careful. I didn’t know if she ever believed anyone, but she surely wanted us to leave with our lives.

“I never got the chance to apologize for all the pointless arguments and fights we had, all the words I wish I could’ve taken back,” The strength in Zoey’s words slowly returned as she regained her composure. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it took everything for her not even to shed a single tear. “Seeing her death made me realize how stupid we acted for all those years. Instead of ignoring her, I could’ve tried to get to know her better. Perhaps become a real family.”

“Zoey, you don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to.” I offered those words of condolence. It was the best I could do. I didn’t know her sister or even Zoey all too well for that matter. An apology wouldn’t suffice for anything, not to that woman.

Zoey stopped the car and stepped out. I looked out the window, immediately recognizing the area. It was about a block away from the bar.

Suddenly, Zoey opened the door and pulled me out onto the street. She removed my handcuffs with a key.

“What are you—”

“Don’t make me regret this decision.” Zoey opened the passenger door and reached inside the vehicle. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight of a familiar briefcase. She shoved it into my chest, then closed the door. “I’m not finished with that organization. I’ll tear it down with my own two hands soon enough. If I see your name show up on their radar again, I’ll come back and arrest your ass. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!” I answered quickly. I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t going to prison. After everything, I was released and given my prize money. The bar was saved.

“Good luck, Ambrose.” Zoey flashed me a small smile before she got into her car and drove off. I couldn’t even thank the woman for all that she’d done for me. Words alone wouldn’t be enough to express my eternal gratitude. When her car disappeared from my line of sight, I made a mad dash toward the bar.

I had done it. I survived through the death games and obtained the prize money. The bar was saved. I couldn’t wait to see the look on the old man’s face upon my return.

It took about five minutes to reach the bar running at full speed. All the hopes and dreams I had of saving the bar vanished when I turned the corner vanished. The briefcase that I previously held tightly fell to the ground. My legs gave out, dropping me down to my knees as I gazed ahead in horror.

The bar. My home. Our home.

It was gone.

A burnt pile of rubble replaced the bar that once stood proudly on the street corner. Police barriers and tape closed the area off. But I ignored them all.

“No…no…no, no, no, this is not fucking happening!” I picked myself off the ground as well as the briefcase. I jumped over the barricades and approached the destroyed bar. It didn’t make any sense. I had the money. I could’ve saved it. Why? Why had it been burned down? Why was all that hard work, effort, and sacrifice wasted? All the blood, sweat, and tears spilled for the sake of saving the bar—all meaningless.

I absentmindedly wandered into the burnt wasteland, aimlessly searching for anything that could’ve survived the fire. Many memories flashed through my mind with each step I took. Nineteen years of memories all gone.

With the bar, my home gone, I had nothing else. I didn’t know when the bar burned down or where the old man was if he even stuck around after my disappearance. I sat in the ashes for God knows how long, contemplating my next move.

“Troy?” A familiar voice called out to me.

I turned my head, hoping to God that it was who I thought it was. Thankfully, it was the old man. He stared at me, dumbfounded behind the police barrier. Held tightly in his hands were missing posters with my face on them.

“Old man?” I softly called out to him in return. In no time at all, I got up and rushed over to him, embracing him as tight as I could with no plans to let go anytime soon. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry again, but I couldn’t hold them back anymore. The days I spent holed up in Serendipity, wondering if I’d ever make it out alive. All the regrets I had even agreeing to participate in the first place. Every painful and horrifying thing I witnessed in that facility; I unleashed all my sorrow on the old man’s shoulder.

“H-h-hey! What the hell’s going on, Troy?! Where have you been?!” Maynard tried to shove me off, but I refused to let him go. I didn’t know if I’d ever let him go ever again.

It took me a moment to even complete my sentences. I sobbed uncontrollably while apologizing repeatedly. It wasn’t just him I apologized to—it was to everyone else. My family, my friends, and those that died in Serendipity. I owed it to everyone that I hurt to get to where I was that day. Even then, it would never be enough.

“I-I’m sorry…I didn’t think…I’d ever see you again!” I continued to bawl my eyes out, not caring about the fact that he’d chew my ass out for crying so pathetically out in public.

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” Maynard used his strength in my moment of weakness to shove me off him. He inspected his shirt afterward, grimacing at the snot I left behind. “Son of a bitch. What the fuck is wrong with you, boy? What’s with the tears? And where have you been?”

“It’s a long story,” I answered. I wiped away as much as the mucus and tears as I could. My focus shifted to the bar behind us. “I’m sorry, old man. The bar burned down. Maybe if I got back here faster—”

“Don’t apologize for shit you had nothing to do with, Troy.” He interrupted, setting a firm grasp on my shoulder.

“But it’s our home.”

“Home is wherever we want it to be, Troy. We could’ve left this place at any time. It’s a shame that it took someone burning it down for you to get it across your thick skull,”

Even in that desperate moment, the old man found the time to crack jokes. How shameful of me. He tried to lighten the mood while I continued to let my sorrow overwhelm my senses.

Yes, the bar was gone. The place where I spent some of the happiest years of my life—all gone in a pile of ash and rubble. It took my reunion with Maynard for me to realize that it wasn’t all lost.

“Do the police have any leads as to who burned the bar down?” I suddenly asked.

Maynard narrowed his eyes and looked around the area. There was no one around, which was why I found it odd as to why the old man’s head was on a swivel.

“It was me,” He revealed.

“What?!” I exclaimed.

“Keep your voice down, Troy,” Maynard demanded. “Ever since we got the letter, I planned to burn the bar down. Like hell, I was going to give those bastards the satisfaction of taking our home from us. So, about a week after you disappeared, I torched the place. I’m waiting for the insurance money when the police are through with their investigation.”

I couldn’t believe it.

“And you didn’t want to tell me at the time because?!”

“Plausible deniability,” He answered without missing a beat. The sly fox planned the whole thing out ahead of time. “It worked out that you disappeared. The police searched around for you for questioning, but they couldn’t find you anywhere. Speaking of which, where the hell did you go? And what’s with the briefcase?”

The whole situation dumbfounded me. Everything I went through to save the bar was all for nothing. Maynard planned on getting rid of it from the very beginning. If not for the prize money in my hands, I would’ve snapped.

I cracked a smile and opened the briefcase, revealing the prize money. “So, where do you wanna go? The Bahamas or Hawaii?”