but before I could read her feedback, I noticed a strange piece of paper. It was a black envelope with spelled out in colorful cutout magazine letters. Creepy ransom note-style. My stomach began stirring as I quickly ripped open the flap and pulled out a piece of cardstock. Again, no handwriting—only the magazine letters. It said: The game is almost afoot. It’s happening in forty-eight and you have twenty-four to decide. Will you join my band of fools? Email TheJesterXXIII@gmail.com with your answer. If yes, be ready for further instructions. “Oh, Alex,” I whispered to myself, staring at the
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