Page 85 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

We’re all hustled back to the villa and told to stay inside until further notice. When Daniel and I are back in our suite, I start pacing the floor, my feet sinking into the plush carpet with each step.

“Anton—” I can’t even say it. “He’s—”

“It’s okay, Alice,” Daniel says softly. “It’s going to be okay,”

But it won’t be for Anton.

I barely knew him, but I’m shaking with grief and horror. All I can think about is how senseless Anton’s death is. Everything that made Anton who is he and every possible path he might have taken in the future, it’s all gone now because of an accident.

“Alice.”

There’s a moment when Daniel and I just look at one another. Then we come together like magnets drawn to each other. He wraps himself around me, solid and certain. I rest my face in the crook of his neck. All I want right now is to feel connected to someone tangible and real and alive. He holds me tight for a moment that stretches into a small and precious eternity.

Then I pull back, my gaze searching his face. His fingers brush my cheek, and I can feel myself falling into him.

“God, I just—” I start. Then I flinch back at the knock on the door. I swipe at the tears tracking down my face while Daniel goes to open the door.

Lex is standing in the doorway, a grim look on their face.

“Lex! Are you okay?” I ask.

“Not really,” Lex says. They look tense and jittery, more unsettled than I’ve ever seen them before. Their eyes dart over me, and I lift my arms.

“I’m all clear. We left our mic packs with the producers,” I say. “What’s going on?”

Lex folds their arms. “We shouldn’t even be talking. We should be packing our bags and getting on the first flight out of here. But Dawn Taylor is insisting that ‘the show must go on,’ as if a death didn’t just happen on set, and Peter Dixon is backing her up. I tried to make contact with my union rep, but the signal is shit right now. There’s nothing getting in or out from this side of the island, thanks to the storm. No flights, no calls.”

“We’re trapped here.” I sink onto the bed.

“Yep, we’re trapped,” Lex confirms. “I have a meeting with Shawna in ten, so I don’t have much time. You wanted to exchange information? Let’s exchange information.”

“I’ll tell you everything. But first, sit.” I lead Lex to the suite’s only armchair and push a pile of yesterday’s clothes off of it.

“Let me get you some water,” Daniel says. I take a seat across from Lex on the bed. Daniel hands Lex a bottle of water we’d squirreled away from catering, then sits beside me.

Lex takes a sip, and I can see their hands shaking. That’s enough to makemenervous.

“I lost my shoe during the challenge. Daniel and I, we went to look for it. But then we saw someone on the ground.” I squeeze my eyes shut, and there, in the darkness, is Anton’s body, blood pooling around him.

The image is seared into my mind. I can recall every gruesome detail with horrifying clarity, and I know I’ll be having nightmares about finding Anton for years to come. I make a mental note to search for an in-network therapist when I get off this island.

My heart starts to race as I struggle to find the words for what happened. Daniel presses his shoulder against mine, and I take a deep breath.

“He was on the other side of the pit. We crossed the bridge, and we found Anton. I tried to give him CPR, but it was too late.”

Lex is almost vibrating with tension. They lean forward. “Do you know how he got there? He should’ve been outside with the other PAs.”

“He must’ve fallen. One of the walkways was broken, probably from the storm,” I say, thinking back to the scene of Anton’s death. The jagged bits of wood above me. The fathomless blue of the sky. The metal bars that made up the scaffolding.

“Alice?” Daniel says, his gaze on me. “You look like you’re puzzling something out.”

I shake my head. “I just don’t get it. The walkway planks had splintered,but there wasn’t enough of a gap for someone to fall through. And the scaffolding had safety rails. There’s no reason he couldn’t have hung on to the railing and made it across.”

“Could he have jumped?” Daniel asked.

I picture the way Anton’s body was sprawled out on the ground, face up. “I don’t think so. The way he landed, I just don’t see it.” I focus on the memory of his eyes, wide open and—I may just be imagining it—fearful. “He had a bruise around his eye.”

“But Anton didn’t have a black eye when we saw him last,” Daniel muses. “And there wasn’t anything he could have hit on the way down that would’ve given him that kind of injury.”

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