Chapter 85
Maple
I go to school with Maple and I used to wish I was her. Until I found a video of her in a shitty diaper on her YouTube channel. I mean, that’s embarrassing, right? But I feel bad about that now #findMaple
This room smells of dirt and decay. There are windows, but they’re covered in so much newspaper, it’s constantly dark. When Brandon took me to the bathroom, he let me close the door, thank God. But there was nothing in there to help me. No window to jump out of, no soap to squirt in his eyes.
So I peed, then I took the water he offered, too thirsty to care if it was spiked, and when he flicked his gun toward the bed, I lay back down and let him re-chain my limbs.
And now I’m in darkness again, with nothing to do but think.
Like thinking about the water bottle I drank from in his truck, how I was impressed by the Voss label.
The seal on those fancy bottles is small, so it would be easy not to notice if it was broken.
I guess that’s why Brandon chose it. And if he has watched all my videos, he’ll know I don’t like Pepsi either, so I wouldn’t have taken the can.
I close my eyes. Part comfort, part shame for being so stupid.
So convinced that I knew best. Why didn’t I tell Dylan about Brandon, ask him to come with me?
We’re supposed to be a team; that’s what he called us.
I was so arrogant, thinking that only I could save Ella.
I told Coco, then didn’t listen to her warning.
I was too desperate to be the hero, to prove that I’m worth something.
I feel a hollowing in my chest, like my lungs are shutting down.
The only tiny slice of hope is that I messaged Coco from Brandon’s truck. I don’t have my phone – I guess the pedo freak took it – so I can’t check whether she read it. But I can’t believe she’d ignore my messages. Yes, she was pissed at me for coming here, but she wouldn’t abandon me.
And if she told the police, or Dylan, or maybe my parents, there must be a good chance they’ll find me.
The bus station will have CCTV, and Coco will be able to give them pretty accurate times.
Brandon was wearing a cap, another red flag I didn’t pick up on, so maybe he won’t be easy to recognize, but they must be able to track his truck.
But I have no idea where we are now, or how long I spent unconscious on the road. Maybe we traveled too far out of Vegas for cameras to continue picking us up.
Fresh tears start to build, but I rub them away because I need to have hope.
Mom and Dad might not be the best parents, but they’ll have called the police in Provo when I didn’t show up on Thursday night.
And I missed Friday’s show, so Dylan will be stressing too.
Maybe he’s using our channel to find me, like we’ve been doing for Ella.
And Jesus, I have nearly two million subscribers of my own. How can anyone disappear with that many friends?
Except that’s exactly what happened to Ella.
I also deleted all my messages with Brandon. I thought I was being clever, keeping it a secret, but it means Mom won’t see them when she checks my TikTok. And I bet the twins have told Mom and Dad what we overheard. They’ll think I chose to leave, that I needed to get away from them.
Which I did, but shit, how could I be so fucking dumb?!
I look at the thin line of yellow light slinking under the door and feel a drowning sensation. Coco might well be my only chance to get out of here.
And I told her not to be responsible for me.