She looks at the Dthrip. It pulses on the chair. She takes off her glasses. She wipes her hands with sanitizer—then drops the bottle.
“Welcome to the Dthrip. The rules are simple. One celebrity will sit in the Chair of Stillness. They will close their eyes. They will not move. Not a finger. Not a blink. For ten minutes.” She looks at the Dthrip
Sir Trevor raises his tin cup. “To Dr. Chaudhry. Who faced the Dthrip and taught it manners.” She wipes her hands with sanitizer—then drops the bottle
The Dthrip latches onto his tear duct. Kai breaks. He doesn’t scream—he just whispers “Dad, please.” He stands up, walks out of the pit, and sits in the jungle without speaking for three hours. One celebrity will sit in the Chair of Stillness
“That’s it?” Kai laughs.
tries mindfulness. “I am a tree,” she whispers. The Dthrip climbs her arm. At five minutes, she feels its filaments stroke her neck. She twitches. The Dthrip’s hum becomes a shriek inside her skull—her own childhood fears, her mother’s voice, every bad review. She screams “GET ME OUT OF HERE” before Dimitri can even ask. Her crown is forfeit. Only Kai and Dr. Amina remain.