“Go to your room.”
Riley silently climbed the stairs then immediately turned on her laptop, tagging JD for a chat.
SMILYRILY: Whatd u find out?
HNTR41: Hi to u too
SMILYRILY: Sry. Hi. Parents took my phone.
HNTR41: Sux. Was doing some research on ur Jane.
SMILYRILY: AND?????
HNTR41: Wait. Downloading the pic u sent.
SMILYRILY: I didn’t send you anything. What did you find out???
HNTR41: Do you know if Jane had a brother Tim?
SMILYRILY: OMG I met Tim today. He grabbed my arm.
Riley sat back from the screen, wondering how much to tell JD. And even if she told him the truth—the truth as it happened—what could she say? The computer chirped when JD messaged her back.
HNTR41: Holy crap, R! That’s creepy. How did u do that?
SMILYRILY: Wait—Do what???
A photo icon popped up on her screen.
HNTR41: U sent this.
Riley clicked on the icon and watched it bounce as a picture loaded, the image filling the whole screen. There was a glowing laptop in the center and a pair of hands resting on the keys. They were female hands and she immediately recognized the Panic Purple nail polish—because she was wearing it too. The head that was blocking the screen was familiar as well. Even in silhouette, she could see the tendrils that were falling out of the back of her ponytail.
“Oh my God!”
Riley jumped back from her screen and turned, clawing at her wall for the device that was filming her—there had to be one. But her walls were smooth, completely unmarred.
She yanked open the bathroom and closet doors, half hoping that her phantom photographer would be inside, half begging that he was long gone. The tears were burning tracks over her cheeks, and every step that Riley took she was sure that someone was tracking, watching, listening to her every breath.
When she heard a car door slam, Riley’s mind started spinning, and she was taking the stairs two at a time. She heard her parents yelling at her but was too focused to make out the words. She flung open the front door and was hit with a cold rush of night air then the burning of something tightening against her throat, pulling her backward. Her father had a handful of her T-shirt.
“Riley, stop!”
“Dad, Dad, there’s someone out there! There’s someone outside, they—they took a picture and—”
“Riley! Stop. Breathe.”
She whipped her head toward the street and then back to her father. “There was…” Riley’s words drifted off.
There was no one in the street. It was dark—not ominous, just regular nighttime dark—with a crushing wind that made skeletal leaves cartwheel past.
“What are you talking about?”
Riley tried to pull in a deep breath, but it was like trying to breathe through a straw. She pressed her hand to her chest and blinked away the tears that rimmed her eyes.
“Breathe, Riley. One, two…” Her mother was speaking to her now, her hands on Riley’s arms, slate-gray eyes focused on her daughter.
Riley tried to do as her mother said. She felt a bead of sweat start at her hairline and make its way down the side of her face.
“Maybe we should call Dr. Morley and have him check your antianxiety medication. Maybe your body is getting used to it?” Her mother’s eyebrows were knitted with worry, and Riley pinched her eyes shut.
Antianxiety, she breathed. My parents aren’t trying to drug me.
After what seemed like a lifetime, she was finally able to take in a full breath.
“What happened, Riley?” her mother asked gently.
Riley looked from her mother to her father then out to the darkness on the street. “I thought I saw someone outside. Someone watching me.”
Her parents shared a look. “Like a Peeping Tom?”
“No.” Riley shrugged out of her mother’s arms. “Someone driving by. Or in a car, stopped. Just like—I was instant messaging—”
“Instant messaging? You’re grounded, remember?”
“Yeah, but I—”
“Your father and I were very clear, Riley.”
“But, Mom, it was just a—I was just talking to a friend and then—”
Riley watched her father suck in a deep breath. He knitted his brow and set his lips, and her stomach dropped. Riley knew that look; she loathed that look.
“Go up to your room.”
“Dad—”
“You want to make your punishment worse? Up to your room.”
“Someone was watching—”
“There was no one outside, Riley. Your father and I were here the whole time.”
“Trust me, if someone has their eye on us—on you—we’d know about it. Now up to your room before I get unreasonable,” her father said.
Riley opened her mouth and then closed it, looking at the hard expressions on her parents’ faces. She knew that if she said anything—if she protested or confessed—her parents would dismiss her. They weren’t going to listen to anything she had to say.