Chapter 101
Dylan
My boyfriend might just turn out to be the hero in this story #findMaple
His dad’s only been back from church for five minutes, but there’s clearly no peace or goodwill on his mind as he slams his open palm against their living room wall.
Dylan tries to hold eye contact with him, but he can’t, so he looks away, toward his mom.
But she’s just staring at the floor, like she’s praying for an escape.
He hates how his dad does this, uses fear to win every argument, never willing to listen.
But Dylan’s only fifteen; he has no choice but to ride it out.
‘I have been so accommodating these last few weeks, Dylan!’ his dad shouts.
‘Even with all that shit you’ve been pulling, creating content I never agreed to, neglecting your riding and your brand work.
And you repay me by bringing a stranger into my house, and his disrespectful kids who tear up the place? !’
‘He’s Maple’s dad,’ Dylan tries. ‘And her little brother and sister.’
‘I know who they are, for Chrissakes!’ his dad throws back. ‘My point is that I didn’t invite them, and yet here they were when I got home from a very busy Saturday morning at work.’
‘They’re staying in a motel; Garrett just came to record some content.’
His dad’s eyes blaze with a new level of fury. ‘Yes, content about pedophiles, you making comments about sexual acts in front of thousands. You are disgusting!’
He raises his hand, takes a step forwards. Dylan flinches. His mom gasps.
‘I’m sorry, okay!’ Dylan splutters, lifting his hands to protect himself. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m worried about Maple. She’s my friend and she’s missing.’
‘You should never have gone there in the first place!’ His dad turns to his mom, shifts his anger. ‘And that was your fault, getting charmed by a woman who converses with deviants. Agreeing for Dylan to stay with strangers. How could you be so stupid?!’
‘I don’t know,’ Dylan’s mom stutters. ‘I don’t understand how I didn’t see it.’
Dylan’s phone buzzes in his back pocket.
He’s used to that, more so since he started his channel with Maple, and tenfold more again since she went missing, but he’s still itching to check it.
Yeah, most of the comments are dross, but that’s social media; he read somewhere that you have to wade through the churn to find the pearls, and that sounds about right.
Like that kid who told him about Coco’s YouTube channel, the DM he found in his TikTok requests on Saturday morning.
That was helpful. Although it’s been twenty-four hours now, so it’s a bit weird that Coco hasn’t responded to his email.
And Garrett hasn’t heard anything from the Miami police.
Why is real life always so much slower than online life?
His phone buzzes again. God, it’s almost painful. The thought that it might be another decent piece of intel. ‘Can I go now?’ he risks asking.
‘You can go and clean my barbecue!’ his dad hollers. ‘While I think of a ton more chores for you. And don’t even think about leaving the house!’
Dylan nods, finds a weak smile for his mom, and backs out of the room. As soon as he’s out of sight, he opens TikTok, goes straight to the message requests where he found that kid’s DM. There are thirty-four new ones. He scrolls through them, slower now, not wanting to miss something important.
He stops on a message from someone called Chris Brent. Holds his breath as he reads.
Hey, I’m pretty sure I saw Maple Clark at Bonneville Transit Center in Las Vegas on Friday afternoon.
I did that double-take thing when you think you know someone you actually recognize from Instagram or whatever.
It was around 3 p.m. and she met up with a middle-aged guy.
Seemed friendly enough. Sorry for not messaging earlier – I’ve been camping with my girlfriend for the weekend, off grid you know. Hope you find her.
Dylan grips the phone, feels a jolt of excitement – Maple has been spotted in Vegas. But the feeling quickly morphs into dread. Vegas is where that guy Blake wanted Maple to go. And the message says she walked off with a middle-aged guy. Two days ago.
It has to be him. But why would she go willingly? What line did he feed her for that to happen?
All Dylan knows for sure is that he needs to be in Vegas. Fuck his dad. He’s done with worrying about when that asshole might throw the next punch. He calls Garrett, his hands shaking.
‘Hey,’ Garrett says, sounding crushed. ‘I’ve just heard some terrible news.’
‘Well, let me go first because at least mine’s got a positive side,’ Dylan interrupts. ‘Maple’s been spotted in Vegas, so can you drive us there?’