It's an old board game pulled from a FREE box at a yard sale — no title left on the faded lid, just a spiral of squares winding toward a darker, more worn one at the center. The printed rules seem harmless enough: roll, move, do what the square says. But some squares are worn smoother than others, and those are the ones that come true. Then a second piece turns up on the board — one nobody put there, already several spaces ahead. It only moves when someone takes a turn, creeping closer to the center every time the game gets played, no matter who's rolling.