Crowned by Cheryl S. Ntumy

reach for a bottle of water and pour myself a tall glass, then walk back to the living room.
    Dad’s sitting at the computer table in the corner, tapping away. “Emily. I didn’t want to ask if she was
that
Emily, but she did have a sort of strange, jaded look about her.”
    “She’s
that
Emily.” Why would she be here in broad daylight? Why would she come to the door and talk to my father like a normal person rather than sneak around at night like the creepy foot soldier she is?
    “God, should I have kept her here? Called the police? Isn’t she presumed dead?”
    I gulp down my water. “No, no, and yes. The police wouldn’t believe you, Dad.”
    “But…her parents…”
    “I know. It’s one of those situations you have to let go.”
    He scowls. “You seem to have a lot of those in your world.”
    I can see where this road is leading, so I take a quick detour. “What did she bring? Is it an envelope?”
    Dad shakes his head and points to the dining table. I turn, and wonder how I missed it. A rust-orange gift box with a yellow ribbon sits in the middle of the table, looking cheerful and innocuous. A present from the Puppetmaster? Why?
    I walk over to pick it up. “Did she leave a message?”
    “She just said to give it to you. It’s not ticking, but I’m not sure that means much.”
    I lift the lid. Inside is an exquisite wooden jewellery box with small flowers carved into it in painstaking detail. I gasp in wonder.
    Dad leaps to his feet. “What? Should I get the fire extinguisher? Salt? Garlic?”
    I laugh. “It’s just a jewellery box. No danger.”
    He comes forward to take a closer look. I hand him the box, then turn back to the packaging, searching for a note. There isn’t one. What does this mean? I haven’t done anything for the Puppetmaster. At least I hope not.
    “This is a puzzle box,” says Dad, turning it over before handing it back to me.
    “A what?” I study it, fascinated.
    “You know, a box with a secret mechanism. My gran used to collect them. You have to figure out how it works before you can open it.”
    I smile, understanding. It’s a test, like Ntatemogolo’s book. The Puppetmaster has made it clear how important my progress is to him – maybe he’s hoping to speed it up by giving me another magical code to crack.
    Dad looks uncomfortable. “Why would the Puppetmaster send you this? Are you sure there isn’t something dangerous inside?”
    I shake my head. My gift – or the anklet – would have alerted me if the box was dangerous. “This is his way of testing me. He likes doing stuff like that. I’m going to change and then start working on it.”
    “What about dinner?”
    “I’m not hungry,” I say, already halfway to my room.
    “I was talking about me,” he calls after me.
    “Oh – I’ll whip something up in a minute.”
    I close my bedroom door and gaze at the box. I’m excited. After the success I had at Ntatemogolo’s, I think I’m up to the Puppetmaster’s challenge. Then I remember the Skype chat.
Eish
. I’ll have to start on the puzzle box afterwards.
    I change quickly, dash to the bathroom to wash my face, then go to the kitchen to make a quick potato salad and fish fingers. Not quite Master Chef-worthy, but food is food, right? After serving Dad and myself I turn on the Wi-Fi, rush back to my room, turn on my laptop and log into my Skype account. It takes ages for the internet to come on. Military exercise, my foot.
    Wiki’s already online by the time the page loads. I initiate the call and a few minutes later I see his face on my screen. “How goes it, Connie?”
    “Good. Where’s Lebz?”
    There’s a serious time lag before his response, but at least he’s not breaking up. “Probably admiring the purchases she made earlier today. She and Kelly went shopping.”
    “Hang on – there she is.”
    “What’s the big news?” she demands, a few seconds after I pick up. “Did Rakwena make contact?”
    Sigh! “No. I haven’t heard