Chapter 44
Kirsten
What the actual fuck?
No, no, no, this can’t be happening.
I push my laptop away, as though that might stop the live stream, then pull it back in case I miss something.
What the hell is Maple doing? She told me this new channel was just her and Dylan hanging out, talking about stuff that interests them both.
I thought she meant skateboarding, or music, or cool clothing brands, while keeping the romance drama on a simmer.
Not this. Not making accusations about one of America’s most-loved influencer families.
I mean, I know true crime is popular, but there are other YouTubers who focus on it.
The ones with nose piercings who wear black and aren’t blessed with Maple’s looks or talent.
Maybe this kind of content will get her some new followers in the short term – everyone loves a missing girl, especially a famous one – but it will also make her a target, divide opinion, scare brands away. And what then?
She’ll fade away. Become just another shouty TikToker that people will grow bored of. And the effect on her earning potential will be devastating. Maddie is probably having a heart attack right now, and then she’ll recover just enough to fire us from her hospital bed.
God, I want to run into Maple’s bedroom this second and shut it down. But I know how that will look, how it will draw more attention, not less. I need to wait this out.
But why on God’s Earth is my daughter risking her career, her whole life, for a girl from Texas who has got nothing – nothing – to do with her?
Even if it does sound a bit suspect. Which of course it does.
I remember at the time being surprised that Ella had been accepted into the Royal Ballet School – TikTok is one thing, but Swan Lake is something else.
And her not posting for eighteen months does make you think.
But she’s their problem – Selena and Bodi Hart’s – not Maple’s.
Why didn’t I interrogate Maple more about the show? I just took her words at face value, jumped to the conclusion that everything I’ve taught her over the last fourteen years was finally paying off. When did I become so gullible?
The live stream finally finishes, and I stare at the thumbnail – Maple holding a photo of Ella – with YouTube’s familiar promise underneath, that the video is processing.
In minutes it will be uploaded. Available for anyone to watch, forever.
A video of my daughter saying it makes sense that Ella ran away from home, comparing the Harts’ channel to a car crash, and calling Selena Hart a liar.
It will ruin us, for sure. After everything I’ve done.
A jet of rage floods through my veins. I spin off the barstool, storm upstairs and push open Maple’s door. It slams against the plasterboard, and I just know the handle will have left a dent, which only enrages me more.
‘Mom?’ Maple is sat on her bed now. She pushes up against the headboard, like she’s scared, which gives me a tiny jolt of satisfaction.
‘What have you done?’ I ask, trying to sound more betrayed than furious. ‘Do you realize how much damage you will have caused?’
‘The Maple and Dylan thing?’ Her voice is high and timid. ‘Are you mad because we said we’re not dating?’
‘No, Maple,’ I say, gritting my teeth. ‘I’m mad because you blindsided me. Made out like it was going to be some cute chat show, then went all Nancy Drew on me!’
‘I’m looking out for another influencer,’ she mumbles. ‘And you’re always saying that mutuals are the best relationships to build.’
I tut so hard it feels like the roof of my mouth comes loose.
‘Honey, Selena Hart is the absolute queen of influencing, and you called her a liar. And made out that she doesn’t care about her daughter’s welfare.
Do you really think someone like her, who has built her entire multimillion-dollar brand around being the perfect mother, is going to accept that without a fight? ’
‘But if the whole perfect family thing is fake …’
‘No one cares! Practically everything we watch on social media is fake. That doesn’t stop us enjoying it, does it?
Post and let post, Maple; that’s always been our motto.
We create content and let others – the less talented – make their snidey comments about it.
’ I inhale, then release a long sigh. ‘Look, if you take the video down now, maybe it’ll be okay.
It was your first live, and you’ve only got a few hundred subscribers, so if you remove the channel, I’m sure people will forget about it pretty quickly. ’
Then a new thought comes to me. I drop into her desk chair and snap my fingers.
‘Or better yet, film a different kind of video with you and Dylan to replace it with, one where I write the script. I promise, no one will be thinking about Ella Hart after that.’ I look at her curled on the bed, mute, her lips pressed together.
‘Maple, come on! This requires some urgent damage control, and that’s a good idea, isn’t it? A great one maybe?’
‘No.’
‘Sorry, what did you say?’