They climbed the stairs slowly as the sounds rose to meet them; heavy footsteps crossing the room, the sharp whip of leather striking skin. A loud cry, low and deep voice.

  Calvin led them, stepping onto the landing and pausing.

  On the floor, Alfie in his stripped blue pajamas cowered. His arms were over his head, body curled tight, shrinking from the man standing over him.

  Pa held the belt wrapped around his fist. He brought it down again, the strike landing hard across Alfie’s back.

  Something cold dropped through Calvin’s stomach.

  Elsie stopped at the landing, the twins clutching her nightgown. They didn’t come any farther.

  Calvin set the star down and stepped forward.

  “Worthless boy!” Pa shouted, bringing the belt down again.

  Calvin flinched without meaning to. His back remembered before his mind did.

  “Mama!” Alfie cried.

  “Cry for your mother,” Pa sneered. “Like an infant.”

  The belt rose and fell. Again. Again.

  “Please,” Alfie begged.

  Calvin’s heart hammered so hard it hurt. He moved closer.

  “Alfie,” he said quietly.

  Alfie didn’t response. Or didn’t hear him.

  “Alfie,” Calvin said again, louder this time. He knelt beside him. “Listen to me.”

  Alfie’s eyes flicked to him, they were red and crying.

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  “You’re not a boy anymore,” Calvin said. “You’re big now. You’re as big as Pa. You can stop him.”

  Alfie shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” Calvin said, forcing the words steady. “You’re tall like him. You do the same things he does. Buy rolls of fabrics from vendors. Talking to all the customers. You’re not a boy anymore.”

  Alfie looked up at his father, then down at his own hands. Something shifted in his face. The fear didn’t leave, but it changed. His brows came together, his eyes still red and raw.

  “I’m not a boy,” Alfie whispered.

  Pa raised the belt again, but as it came down, Alfie stood and caught it in his hand.

  Pa threw a punch. Alfie blocked it.

  “You can’t hit me anymore,” Alfie said, meeting his father’s eyes.

  Then he straightened fully.

  Pa grabbed a fistful of Alfie’s shirt, his arm still raised with the belt, but Alfie shoved him backward. Hard. The belt slipped from Pa’s hand and hit the floor.

  “You can’t hit me anymore,” Alfie said.

  He picked up the belt, raised it high over his head, and brought it down along his father’s side, catching the lower back. He struck him again. And again. Pa collapsed to the ground, crawling away, flinching with each blow.

  Alfie kept swinging until there was nothing beneath him but the floor. He stopped, confused and bewildered. Then Elsie rushed forward. The twins followed. They held each other there for a long moment.

  Calvin saw it then.

  The last piece.

  He picked it up.

  “What’s going on?” Alfie asked, standing still shaking, breathing hard, the belt slipping from his fingers.

  “It’s a game,” Elsie said.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Calvin looked at the last piece in his hand. Then at Elsie and Alfie. At the twins. And the tall man’s words came back to him.

  White gets you back. Black keeps them back.

  He thought of the game and said, “To win, you must give. Give nothing, gain nothing.”

  Then it hit him. Everything the man had said. It all clicked into place, and Calvin didn’t hesitate.

  “What’s happening Calvin?” said Elise.

  Calvin grabbed the star and tore the pieces free, flipping each one black-side out before pressing it back into the box. One by one, they clicked into place. Except his piece, he left it white side facing out.

  Then the box answered.

  Gears shifted. Seams split. The gold lines etched into the metal flared to life again.

  His father’s yelling echoed back. Downstairs, a horse screamed. Elise screamed too. Each of them disappeared back to the where they had started.

  White smoke burst free, thick and blinding, flooding the room once more.