Andres laughed and patted Landon's shoulder.
"So those three ugly-ass toads were you. Landon, you're something else."
Landon threw his head back, laughing too.
"If it weren't for this game, I might've taken that to the grave."
"Andres, I was petty back then. I'm officially apologizing."
Andres studied him for a beat. "Fine. Apology accepted."
That round, Landon slipped through clean.
After Landon stepped down, it was Andres versus Maeve.
Andres was already debating what question he'd ask if he won.
There were things he wanted to know—things he wanted to say—but in a room full of people, he couldn't exactly get personal.
He was still weighing his options when Maeve shattered the fantasy with one line.
"Whitty," she said, "you're losing this one."
With a cool, practiced motion, she shook the dice cup.
The clatter stopped.
Three sixes sat on the table.
Almost at the exact same moment, Andres revealed his dice—
three sixes as well.
A tie.
Andres lifted an eyebrow. "How do we handle a tie?"
Maeve didn't blink. "First to roll wins."
Andres frowned. "That's not exactly fair. You didn't say ‘first roll wins' earlier."
Maeve shrugged lightly. "I assumed everyone knew."
Andres:
Fine. His wife—his Maeve—got her way when she wanted it.
He let it go.
"Okay. I lose. What's your question?"
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