Break the Code

by Megan Atwood

  Maiv’s mom instantly brightened up. Even with six kids, three jobs, and a bad back, her mom was the happiest person Maiv had ever met. “Yes! I think it helped my back. I feel better already.”

  Though the Mouas were Catholic, they still practiced traditional Hmong rituals and sought help from the shaman. Maiv noticed their family altar had also gotten some additions. Her mom was going all out.

  Though Maiv was happy her mom felt better, she knew this would be short-lived. The rituals helped, but Maiv knew that rest, pain relief, and some medical tests would help too. If only doctors weren’t so expensive and her mom could afford to take time off from work. If only the money from the Contest were real.

  “How’s Txiv?” Maiv asked.

  “He just got home.”

  “He worked today? Does that mean his foot is better?”

  Maiv’s mother gave a little shrug. “He needs to go to the shaman too, but you know how stubborn he is.”

  Just then, Maiv’s dad came into the living room, moving slowly—trying to hide the limp. When he saw Maiv, he grinned, though Maiv could see the pain behind his eyes. “I knew something was missing! Two of my wonderful daughters came home from school, but I could’ve sworn I had three.”

  He didn’t even mention the cheating accusation. He came over and kissed her forehead like he always did. Her father never let his worries or his doubts show.

  Maiv couldn’t help asking, “Txiv, should you be going to work with your foot like it is?” It had only been two weeks since the surgery. And the bills were starting to come in. But the healing wasn’t happening as fast.

  He winked at her. “You don’t worry about me. I worry about you! That’s my job. My foot can run four hundred miles, right now.”

  Maiv swallowed down tears. She knew how much her parents wanted her to be just a kid. But she never had been. Not with so many younger siblings to take care of and money tight and always feeling a bit like an outsider, wherever she was.

  “We’d better get started on dinner,” said her mother. “The Yangs will be here at six.”

  Maiv nodded. “Be there in a minute.”

  She ducked into the room she shared with her sisters, found an empty cardboard box Kiab had been saving for an art project, and packaged up the clothes and phone. She’d figure out how to actually mail them later.

  In the kitchen, Maiv got to work with her mother and sisters. The four of them formed a line at the table and started making spring rolls for dinner. Maiv loved moments like this. Even with her twin brothers running around like fools and getting in the way.

  When the doorbell rang an hour or so later, Maiv’s father limped over to open the door. There stood Adam with his parents. While they gave the traditional greeting of asking if they could come in, Adam smiled at Maiv.

  “Koj tuaj los,” her father said, and Maiv smiled back at Adam. He was one of her oldest and closest friends. She wondered if she could ever see him as anything more.

  “You start the physics homework yet?” he asked her as he stepped into the living room and took off his shoes. “Mrs. Kildare was rude about all the homework this time around . . .”

  That was as far as he got before the twins and Lili sprinted toward him. Cai, her thirteen-year-old brother, lifted his head in greeting but then ignored him. Kiab just flopped on the couch and waved. Lili yelled, “Are you Maiv’s boyfriend?” Her whole family giggled, especially Kiab. Maiv rolled her eyes. Her siblings.

  Maiv’s dad swooped Lili up and threw her in the air, her laughs tickling Maiv to the core. Meanwhile Adam started chasing the twins around the tiny house. A minute later Lili joined in, and then Kiab. Even Cai jumped in, grabbing little ones and swinging them around.

  Maiv loved the sound of her family laughing more than anything.

  And Adam fit in so perfectly . . .

  Maiv gave herself a mental shake. This wasn’t the time to analyze how she felt about Adam. She had a contest to sabotage.

  *****

  After dinner, as the Yangs put on their shoes and said good-bye, Maiv checked the time. It was 7:30. There was no way she’d get out of the house now. Not with dishes to do and bathtime for Liv and Leev.

  Adam smiled at Maiv, and she had an idea. “Can we talk outside for a minute before you go? About that physics homework?” He nodded, looking so happy Maiv felt a thud of guilt in her chest.

  “Great. Give me one second, I’ll be right there.”

  Maiv ran to her room and grabbed the package. Then she slipped on her shoes and sneaked out the back door. Adam was waiting for her.

  “Can you do me a favor?” she asked him.

  His eyes widened and he nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

  She swallowed. “OK, this will seem weird, but I need you to mail this package for me tonight. The FedEx by your house should still be open. The address is already on there, and I’ll pay you back for the postage.” She handed the box to him.

  He looked down at it, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh. Yeah. What for?”

  Maiv smiled. “A birthday present. For a friend. But it has to be mailed tonight or it won’t get to him in time for his birthday.”

  Adam’s shoulders deflated just a little. “Oh. OK. No problem.” Maiv heard the disappointment in his voice—after all, she’d never sent him a birthday present. Instantly she felt guilty. Not only was she using him, she was letting him think—but she stopped herself there. Adam could think whatever he wanted. Maiv wasn’t his girlfriend, and it wasn’t his business if she was seeing someone else.

  Still, she hated to hurt his feelings like this.

  But she had a hunch she’d be doing far worse things as this contest moved forward.

  CHAPTER 5

  Half an hour later, Adam texted Maiv to let her know he’d mailed the package. The worry that had bunched up in Maiv’s shoulders relaxed a little. Until she remembered that she had seven more tasks to go. And still no idea who was behind this or how she could end it.

  In the bedroom she shared with Kiab and Lili, Maiv opened up her super-old laptop. While the younger girls were in the bathroom brushing their teeth, Maiv checked her email.

  Asking someone else to help you with a task is a violation of the Contest’s rules. You will be punished. Meanwhile, if you complete Task 4 correctly, you can still win the $10 million prize. Check the website for your next task.

  Maiv let out a shaky breath. She should’ve seen this coming. Avoiding the bugs in her house hadn’t been enough. Her phone was probably being tracked too, which meant the Benefactor had seen Adam’s text. Or worse, someone could’ve been watching her when she gave Adam the package. The scope of the monitoring felt so intrusive, so scary, that Maiv could hardly breathe. Her whole body trembled and she had to stand up and walk around.

  Now she would be punished. Again. She had no idea what the Benefactor would do to her this time. Or if someone else would get hurt. Her family. Adam. Maiv was close to a full-on panic attack.

  But then she swallowed down her terror. There was nothing she could do about the punishment now. She would just have to wait and see what happened. Anyway, it was clear that the Benefactor still needed her. She wasn’t being kicked out of the Contest. She was just being backed into a corner. Not only could she not quit—she also absolutely could not tell anyone else even a little about what was going on. The Benefactor did not want other people involved. Which just confirmed Maiv’s suspicion that the Benefactor’s master plan was highly shady. But whoever they were, they were determined to guard their secrets well. Only Maiv, the other contestants, the Benefactor would know about the Contest.

  Which meant Maiv needed to track down her fellow contestants.

  She had the phone number for someone named Paul. And she had two addresses. It wouldn’t be hard to find out who owned that phone and who lived at those addresses. Maybe they were contestants, maybe not, but it would be a start.

  Except that she couldn’t use her own computer for that research. Not if the Benefactor was monitor
ing it. She’d have to wait until tomorrow, when she could use a computer in the school library.

  Meanwhile, she had to keep following the Benefactor’s instructions. Maiv grabbed her computer and went to the living room, so that she wouldn’t keep her sisters awake. “What are you up to, honey?” asked her mom, who was coming out of the boys’ bedroom.

  “Just have to finish up a couple of things for the paper, Niam.”

  Her mom frowned slightly. “All right, just don’t stay up too late.”

  Maiv forced a smile. “I won’t. Good night.”

  Once she was settled on the couch, she pulled up the website.

  TASK 3 COMPLETE

  TASK 4

  3:15

  Hack into the Mutual Insurance database and erase any records of Karen and Greg Burnett. You have until midnight.

  Maiv shut the computer like she’d been burned.

  CHAPTER 6

  Maiv took a deep breath and opened her computer again. Best to get this over with. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em—or at least let ’em think you’ve joined ’em.

  Maiv found the insurance company and then, using software she’d built herself, found a way into their system.

  It took her exactly ten minutes. That’s how good she was. And yet the Benefactor was better. Which meant they didn’t need her to do this for them. Unless they wanted her to get caught.

  Scrolling through the policies, she found Karen and Greg Burnett’s file. She scrolled through the policy and saw the word “Deceased” stamped over Mr. Burnett’s name.

  Karen Burnett was a widow. A widow who was about to lose the record of her insurance.

  Maiv had a squirmy feeling in her chest, as if tiny animals were walking around inside her. Tiny, angry, scared animals.

  She took a closer look at the policy. The Burnetts owned a hardware store in North Minneapolis. This was a hazard policy—insurance that covered the store in case of fire, water damage, hail, theft . . .

  So, if she deleted this record, the Burnett business would have no safety net. It would be as if they’d never had insurance at all. Any damage to their store would have to be paid for out of their own pockets.

  She inhaled sharply. How could she possibly do this to someone?

  Maiv got up and paced. She chewed on her lip, then her thumb. She did about five laps in her room. Finally, she deleted the file.

  “I’ll find a way to fix this,” she whispered to the screen, as if she were talking directly to Karen Burnett. “I promise.”

  *****

  TASK 4 COMPLETE

  Check back tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. for your next task.

  Maiv was about to shut down her laptop when she saw that she had a Facebook message. That was unusual. Maiv didn’t use Facebook much, and neither did her few close friends.

  The message was from someone named “Ima Contestant.” Maiv’s stomach flipped. Obviously—too obviously—this was a fake name.

  But the message itself was gibberish: I hope you are having a pleasant day. May your days be filled with good deeds. A lot of time has passed since we’ve met. No words have passed between us. A good code is hard to find.

  A tiny bit of time can feel like eons. Remember, OK? Err on the side of kindness. Yell loud when the mood strikes. Otherwise, what’s it all for? Understand the bigger game. It’s a tragedy, isn’t it? Not that you don’t know that. Thank you for timing things right. Help is a four-letter word. Everyone knows that. Count your blessings, though. Only the strong survive. Now everyone has to play their part. Tell it on the mountain. Eat good food. Sing in the shower. Trace it back to its source.

  This seemed like one of those web robots that gathered sayings and stuck them all together. Maiv was about to close the message, but something stopped her. Certain phrases stood out—seemed to be directed to her. “A good code is hard to find…” “Understand the bigger game.” Even “help is four-letter word.”

  She read the rest of the message.

  Welcome, friend. Establish that life isn’t fair. So what? Haven’t you heard? Only the lonely have it bad. Understanding that takes time. Let’s consider the options. Don’t rush it! Try to see clearly. All things start at the beginning. Life moves on. Kiss the sky and put it all together.

  “Put it all together.” Could this actually be a coded message?

  The words were actual words, so it wasn’t a substitution code. Clearly not a numbers code. Something easy had to be happening here, though. With a name like “Ima Contestant,” this person wasn’t trying to be too sneaky.

  Maiv stared at the message until her eyes blurred. And then it came to her: The first letter of each sentence. When she wrote it down and put it all together, she got:

  I’m Ana. Are you in the Contest? We should talk.

  Maiv swallowed. Right now, the risk of answering was too great. The Benefactor could find out, especially since this code was pretty easy to break. Then they might punish both Maiv and Ana.

  She could try responding tomorrow, from a school computer. And she’d have to create a fake account just like Ana had, since the Benefactor probably already had access to her Facebook account.

  It was worth a try. For the first time in a while, Maiv felt like smiling. At least she wasn’t alone in this.

  CHAPTER 7

  The next morning before school, Maiv dutifully checked the Contest’s website again.

  TASK 5

  9:00

  Write the following note by hand: “Do not displease us again. Or it will be the last nail in your coffin.” Deliver it to the boy working at Burnett Hardware in North Minneapolis by 4 p.m. today. Do not let the boy see you deliver it. Do not speak to the boy. Leave immediately after dropping off the note.

  Suddenly it dawned on Maiv. She and the other contestants weren’t just working toward some hazy goal that she didn’t understand. They were also working against each other. The Benefactor was using each contestant to keep the others in line. If someone refused to do a task or tried to quit, the Benefactor created a new task for another contestant. A task that was designed to frighten, threaten, or punish the person who had resisted. Someone had planted that answer key in Maiv’s locker. And now she had to deliver a threat to the fourth contestant.

  It couldn’t have been a less convenient task. It would take her forever to get from her school in East St. Paul to this hardware store in North Minneapolis. And then forever to get back. She couldn’t possibly be home in time unless she skipped class, and with the cheating accusation so fresh, that seemed like a bad idea. She’d have to think up an excuse to be home late. Her parents knew she stayed late on Tuesday and Thursday to work on the school newspaper, but today was Wednesday . . . Then Maiv had an idea.

  Maiv’s mother had already left for work, so she and her dad got breakfast for the younger kids. As Maiv poured milk into Lili’s cereal bowl, she said, “Uh, Txiv, I’m going to be home a little late tonight. I told Father Michael I’d help out with the after-school program at Sacred Heart.”

  Her dad sounded shocked and pleased at the same time. “My goodness! What a lovely thing to do, Maiv. I’m so happy you’re helping out Father Michael!”

  Maiv tried not to let guilt show in her smile.

  “My angel Maiv. I am always so proud of you.”

  Maiv swallowed down tears.

  *****

  During study hall, Maiv went to the library computers and got to work. First she created a new email account. Then she made a fake Facebook profile. And then she searched for “Ima Contestant.”

  But nothing came up in the list of possible contacts. Frustrated, Maiv logged on to her real Facebook account and opened the message from Ana. She clicked to view Ima Contestant’s profile—and got nothing. The account didn’t exist.

  At least it didn’t exist anymore.

  Maiv chewed on her lower lip. The Benefactor must’ve somehow shut down Ana’s secret profile. Maybe Ana had used her real email address to make it. Or maybe she’d been working on a co
mputer that the Benefactor was monitoring. Either way, Maiv had missed her chance to connect with Ana.

  That was probably for the best, though. If Maiv had responded, the Benefactor would’ve known—and had another reason to punish her. For now, she would just work with the information she had.

  So far she had Ana’s name and the phone number for a guy named Paul. Plus some addresses. There was the place in South Minneapolis where she’d sent the jump drive with the virus. And there was the place in St. Paul where she was supposed to send the clothes and phone last night.

  With a little digging, she had some answers.

  A reverse phone lookup traced the number she’d called on the burner phone. A guy named Paul Grayson owned the phone. Paul Grayson was easy to find on Facebook. Like a lot of middle-age people, he seemed not to realize that privacy settings existed. His profile said that he had worked for something called EarthWatch, a St. Paul business, until two months ago. He listed his current employment as “freelance.” Based on the photos and statuses, he had a wife, two adorable kids, and a huge house. Maiv had a gut feeling he wasn’t one of the four contestants. Someone like this—a professional, responsible middle-age guy—would never buy into the Contest. Of course, the Benefactor was clearly blackmailing him. But the Benefactor could be blackmailing a lot of people. That didn’t mean those people could help Maiv. The four contestants would at least know what she was going through. They would probably be in the same position she was. They were her best bet right now.

  The Minneapolis mansion belonged to Philip and Yvette Davenport. Mr. Davenport was a big-time lawyer with a lot of important-sounding clients. Maiv took a shot in the dark. She typed the Davenports’ names into the search bar along with the only other contestant’s name she knew: Ana.

  The first hit was a magazine article—a small piece in the “Gala” section. A picture showed two fancy-looking white people—the Davenports, according to the photo’s caption. And next to them stood two Latina girls, one about Maiv’s age and the other a little younger than Kiab. The caption named them: Ana and Isabel Rivera.