Karin sat in the downstairs lobby of the office building Grenfell and Maxwell had rented for the race. As she approached the table made for three, she loudly slammed the ring's box beside her chair. Maxwell, always awake long before the sunrise, silently prepared her plate and sat across from her. Every day Maxwell had crafted a new meal for the three of them; it was never the bacon, biscuits, and eggs she was familiar with, but it always tasted good enough to eat. Sometimes enough to do it more than once.

Today a plate of rice with an assortment of spiced vegetables and a few pieces of stewed beef presented themselves on her plate. The whole dish tasted spicy, with a hint of coconut throughout. Karin had never seen it before and hoped to do so again.

"That was. . pleasant. I would certainly like to try it again. How about you, Grenfell?" Mr. Maxwell dabbed a napkin onto his face. Pure mimery. He didn't let so much as a crumb miss his mouth.

Mr. Grenfell didn't bother even pretending to clean his spotless face, "It was fine, I'm not terribly fond of the spices though. A good level, but an overpowering flavor. What's next on the list?"

Karin had an idea. A common enough occurrence for her, but rarely good for those surrounding. She greedily finished her meal and smeared as much of it onto her face as she could stomach. Then, she waited.

"I believe it would be the Maldives if we continue alphabe-"

"I liked it too, what was it again?" The two men stared at her. Maxwell with annoyance, and Grenfell with rage. As she had hoped, her interruption ensured they couldn't ignore her.

"It was Nasi Lemak, and I. . . doubt you'd need me to declare the side of beef and vegetables seeing as they rest on your face," Maxwell said.

Ooh, that got to him. That wasn't his usual "find the right word to hide my intent" pause. That was absolutely a "don't say 'fuck'" pause.

Karin reminisced as the pair of men looked away from her in disgust and continued their conversation.

I'm certain they didn't lie to me on two occasions yesterday. The first was that Maxwell let me live out of convenience. The second is that he didn't see me as a prisoner. People are prisoners, but I'm not a person to him. I'm a white elephant; kept alive because he's afraid of the consequences. He'd kill me in a heartbeat if the world looked away for just a moment. It'd be more like swatting a bothersome fly than murder. No, I don't even think I'm alive to them. They'd see it as throwing out soiled food.

She snapped back to the men's conversation when Grenfell stood, "It seems the reporters have returned. They won't be satisfied until we deny Sheri's victory. Something we should have done yesterday."

Mr. Maxwell didn't so much as look at Grenfell, but the older man shrunk from his presence all the same. Euclid looked to be forty—ten years Maxwell's senior—with short greying hair and shadowed crevasses on his face, but Karin had never seen him take charge. The few times they disagreed, he would make his displeasure known and follow Maxwell's advice. When asked, both men would call themselves equals; Karin was sure they both believed it, "Such a strange obsession with seeing their familiar lies," Maxwell uttered to his plate, "Be firm Grenfell, I do not wish to see them again unless they give up on these. . fabrications. Nor do I wish for them to disturb Sheri's work."

"They won't leave us or her alone until they get the story they want," Euclid said before leaving the room.

Maxwell continued to ignore Karin's presence as he cleared the table. She shifted in her seat, and Maxwell failed to hide his cautious gaze.

It's only a matter of time until they grow tired of me. I need to ensure the world utters my name every time they think of Grenfell or Maxwell. To sew myself so utterly to their existence that them without me will be newsworthy.

Karin grabbed the small box holding the ring and made her way to the front door. She could barely make out the cascade of questions and Grenfell's stalwart non-answers through the walls. Maxwell, sure she wasn't planning to kill him, returned his eyes to the table.

They don't watch me enough. Guess it doesn't matter what a piece of moldy bread like me brings to the table so long as I take it with me. I have to keep them angry, or else they might forget about me; if they do, they'll assume the world feels the same.

Karin took a deep breath. A career spent manipulating the press, but the cameras never stopped intimidating her. She opened the box and took out the ring. It was a crisp silver surrounding a rhinestone larger than her thumb. Five small pearls surrounded it like a large pale flower. Toward the front end was a golden bow and a small field of rococo-styled reliefs capped the rear. The entire assembly hid most of her finger. It made writing difficult and its heft made it impossible to fully lift her finger. Uncomfortable, clumsy, and ugly. Above all, it was noticeable.

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She donned the ring and stepped through the door. As she approached Euclid, the sunlight, on the same journey she had measured yesterday, struck her eye. She shielded her face with her left hand. Euclid was acting predictably dull. Dodging their questions when he could, and giving a curt "No comment" when he couldn't. The reporters had grown restless after three days hoping for a scoop about the race, Maxwell or Grenfell, or Sheri's cheating. They were instinctively pulled from their boredom by Sheri's movement, and their gazes followed her hand as the ring reflected the sunlight.

"Ms. Bernays," one of the reporters asked, stumbling over their microphone's cord before shoving it into her face, "Do you have some time to answer a few questions about the race?"

"Certainly," Karin smiled at Euclid as he glanced over his shoulder. Their eyes met and she could feel the threats for silence behind his gaze.

Don't worry. I won't tell them a damn thing about your teleporting and threats.

"Well, um, first I'd like to ask you about that ring? It's quite a large piece, where did you get it?"

Karin hoped no one notice her smile turn genuine, "Oh, this thing? I forgot I was wearing it," She brought her hand down and splayed her fingers to the camera, "Euclid gave it to me last night—a little bit late but that's just how he is—and it's so gorgeous I couldn't take my eyes off it."

"Mr. Grenfell gave you that ring? Does this mean?"

"Oops!" Karin covered her mouth with her left hand, "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone else yet, but I guess it's out now. Yes, we're engaged! When the race started he got down on one knee and asked. He was so flustered he ended up asking if I could "burry" him! Ha. That's why your questions the other day flustered me so. I didn't know if he wanted me to tell anyone the real reason I was staying with the race, but I suppose that bag's been torn now."

The reporters fired a barrage of questions toward the both of them. Euclid refused to answer any of them, instead glaring at her before returning to his stony silence.

That's right, keep your cool. After all, you don't want to cause a scene now. Anything to keep their eyes off your actions, right?

"Congratulations, Ms. Bernays, might I ask when the wedding is planned?"

"Oh, that? Let me ask Euclid. Dear," She looked to his eyes and reveled in his fury, "can I tell them when it's planned? They already know so much, I don't think it would change anything."

You don't want to draw attention. Just say yes and let me become as much a figurehead of this race as you and Maxwell. Just try to get rid of me then.

It took all his strength, but Euclid managed to calm himself into a mere growl, "Fine."

Karin thanked him and turned back to the reporter. Not content to simply tie herself to him, she did the one thing she knew would hurt his pride: prescribe him an emotion, "I'm sorry, I think I embarrassed him. His whole rough act is only there for the cameras you see. He's really quite sweet when we're out of the public. But, yes. Yes, the wedding. We have that scheduled for the first of July. It's when most of the racers are expected to be in Flores and only a day after my birthday. We want it to be a small affair, so we aren't allowing any cameras in. I'm sure you understand, we want our private life to remain so."

The only way I survive this is if I keep talking and keep them thinking about me. The absolute last thing I need to do is roll over and shut up. To start working with them rather than against them. To be like Sheri, choosing the life of a puppet over freedom.

"Could you tell us how it started? What will this mean for the race, or-"

Euclid pushed the microphone back and grabbed Karin's shoulder, "Silence! You know enough about our private lives," he almost choked around the world 'our,' "There is no need to pester us for more. You have your story, now leave us with a shred of ourselves kept from your pages."

'Our'? You caught on quicker than I'd hoped, but I was still able to get enough out there to keep me safe.

The reporters relented. News of the marriage was enough to make their journeys worthwhile, and Euclid eyes gave them the same instinctive feeling: "he would kill me without effort."

Euclid ushered her inside, and once behind the door he released his emotion (for he only truly felt one thing whenever Karin was involved), "What the hell was that!? We ordered you to keep silent. To not draw attention to us! And you.. You!" He stomped about the room to vent his anger in less self-destructive ways than he preferred.

Oh, this is already working perfectly. I only needed this stunt as a shield, but I'd be damned for lying too if I said seeing Euclid's reaction didn't play a part in the planning. But, best to calm him now so he doesn't act out until the story's printed.

"Yes, you did, and they were going to ask about why I gave up so many lucrative opportunities to stay with the race. Would you rather me dodge the question until they start asking new ones, or shut them up? I did you a favor."

Euclid stopped pacing and stared at her with his mouth agape. He had words he wanted to say as much as he had acts he wanted to do, but nothing came of either besides thoughts, "Fine," he finally decided on an action and scowled, "but do not assume I've fallen for your lies. I do not know your plan, but I know this was an attempt to undermine me. This will put you in a new position Karin. You are still here, under our watch and you will not jeopardize our mission."

Karin—as usual—risked everything to push the notch once more and shook her head, "Really, I do so much for you dear husband and you call it an attack. No wonder it's taken you so long to find a wife."

To her disappointment, Euclid didn't shout, scream, or strangle her.

I must not have pushed far enough.

"Truly, dearest, if this keeps up I will soon lose a wife."

Now you're getting it. You were always the more difficult of the two. Maxwell was honest, he doesn't give a damn about me. So I'm safe as long as my disappearance causes questions. But Euclid You're angry and eager to hate. You hate Sheri and she works with you, so where does that leave neutral-at-best me? My best plan was to give you an avenue for that hate. Give you a plan to foil to remind you that you're smarter and stronger than me and you'd never think of killing your favorite source of schadenfreude. So, yes, turn my plot against me. Use this marriage to chain me further to the race. Torture me with that instead of death.

I am Karin Bernays, and this race is how I killed my husband.