Chapter 97
Maple
@JonnieMather.ss, TikTok
It’s too dark in this room.
Nothing to do but think.
I think about my little brother and sister, their muddled faces when Dad blurted out the truth about me.
And the last time I saw them, when I told them I’d be back soon, that they shouldn’t pause the movie for me.
I know that was Thursday morning, but I’m not sure what day it is anymore.
I wonder if they’re missing me. If I’ll ever see them again.
But no, I can’t just vanish. There must be people looking for me, finding clues that will lead them here. But if that’s true, why did Brandon sound so certain that he’s covered his tracks? And he talked about Ella. Was that bullshit to scare me, or is he some kind of serial kidnapper?
I might never be found. And being here is hell now, but it could get even worse.
He already touches me in a way that makes me want to vomit.
He holds my hand, strokes my hair. So far, when I pull away – which I always do, I can’t not – he lets me go.
But will that change at some point? He’s not a big guy, but he’s bigger than me. Stronger. And he’s got a gun.
The thought makes my face crack with fresh tears.
I have to believe that I’ll be rescued before then, that Coco will come through for me, like she always does.
That any second now, the door will be rammed so hard it breaks off its hinges; a group of feds will run in, throw Brandon to the floor and tell me everything’s going to be okay.
The door flies open, smashes against the wall.
But it’s not the feds. It’s him.
‘Hello, my sweet girl,’ he says. ‘It’s late; shouldn’t you be asleep by now?’
My skin crawls. He either treats me like his girlfriend or his child, and both disgust me. Every cell in my body is screaming, begging for me to find a way out of here. But how? This sick, fucked-up human has chained me to a bed and locked me in a blacked-out room.
He sits next to me on the bed. I shuffle away, toward the wall, but he leans over me. My body starts to shake. ‘Oh, Maple,’ he murmurs. ‘I don’t know why you’re fighting it. You and I could be best friends if you just let it happen.’
‘I hate you,’ I murmur. ‘You’re twisted.’
‘I could be like Coco,’ he goes on, as though I haven’t spoken. ‘Telling each other our secrets. Sharing photos all day long.’
‘You’re nothing like Coco,’ I whisper, wanting to defend my friend, even though I can barely breathe.
‘Needing each other so desperately that we get a one-hundred-day snap streak. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?’
I stare at him.
‘Ha! You look so confused,’ he continues, grinning. ‘I love it.’
‘You’re insane,’ I manage.
‘Me?’ he asks in mock outrage. ‘But I thought I always gave the best advice?’ His eyes glint like he’s said something funny. ‘And that I’m brave and righteous and compassionate for investigating a girl’s murder.’
‘That’s …’ I’m almost panting now; short, rapid breaths. What the hell is he saying? ‘That’s Coco,’ I stutter, even as invisible sirens blare in my brain. ‘Not you.’
‘Oh, your face!’ Brandon giggles like a kid. ‘Who knew AI could be so much fun.’
‘I don’t know what you’re saying, but you’re not Coco.’
He sighs, but the grin stays. ‘So here’s the thing, Maple. That’s exactly who I am.’