Angelo, Henry, and Ben were back at the hotel, gathered around a small table littered with papers, notebooks, and the mysterious glass from Lily’s backyard.

“This code… it’s unlike anything I’ve seen,” Angelo muttered, tapping the note. “We’re gonna need help.”

Henry’s eyes lit up. “Wait. I remember someone. A friend of mine—he’s a code cracker. Name’s Charles. Lives in Japan. He can read anything.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Japan? That’s… far.”

“Distance doesn’t matter,” Henry said. “He’s the best. He’ll crack this.”

Angelo nodded. “Alright. Let’s contact him.”

They connected via video call. A sharp face appeared on the screen, glasses slightly slipping down his nose. His eyes scanned the code as soon as they showed it.

“Hmm,” Charles said slowly. “This isn’t random… it’s a pattern. Someone’s marking locations and times. And… a name. Someone’s name is hidden here.”

Angelo leaned closer. “A name? Could it be… my guess is it’s Denny’s?”

Charles didn’t answer immediately. He was too focused, muttering numbers and letters to himself. Then he stopped. “No… this is bigger than one person. Whoever did this… they’re planning something. Something dangerous.”

Ben frowned. “Dangerous how?”

Charles looked directly at the camera. “I don’t know yet. But they’re watching. And they’re leaving clues… on purpose.”

A sudden knock on the hotel door made all three jump.

Angelo motioned for silence. “Stay here.”

He opened the door slowly. No one was there. Only another envelope, sealed with red wax.

Henry picked it up. His hands were shaking slightly. “Another one?”

Angelo opened it carefully. Inside was a photo of the backyard cave, the glass, and a handwritten message:

“You’re getting closer. But the truth is dangerous. Stop now… or regret it.”

Lily’s face appeared in their minds. Was this warning for them—or for her?

Ben whispered, “This just got personal.”

Angelo clenched his jaw. “We can’t stop now. Not when we’re this close.”

And as they stared at the photo and the note, one thought hit them all at the same time: someone was playing a game. And they were not just players… they were the targets.