Page 54 of Someone Just Followed You

I found your image on some of those sites, Maple. I’m so sorry.

When this was about Ella, I felt sick. Now that it’s about me, I want to die.

I drop my eyeline, catch my forehead in the heels of my hands. My phone is glowing beneath me, never far away, like a conscience, always judging. And even though I hate it right now, I pick it up.

There are thousands of comments, and hundreds of messages. But they’re not about Ella now; people want to talk about me instead. How I’m a liar, aura farming, a heartless bitch for exposing Ella’s shameful secret. And the thing is, they’re right. I deserve their hate. Because now I know that I’ve been abused in the same way Ella has, I can’t bear the thought of a single person knowing.

Still on autopilot, I scan my message requests from people I don’t follow. It’s more of the same, but then one handle catches my eye. Brandoninthesky.

The guy who said he knows where Ella is.

I open the message, expecting something equally cryptic and unhelpful. But this one is different.

Hello Maple, I’m sorry it’s been a while since my YouTube comment. I had started to question whether the girl I see at my favorite bar is the same one you’re looking for. But I had a eureka moment during your most recent show, because I recognized her tattoo. I seem to have caught the sleuth bug too, because the next time I saw her, I followed her home. So now I have her address as well.

However, that’s the good news. The bad news is that your friend is not in a good way. I don’t want to say too much – this is Ella’s story to tell, not mine – but I believe she is being mistreated by an abusive man. And I’m worried that, as a man, she would not trust me if I tried to help her.

Sadly, the police won’t get involved because she’s an adult. And it’s clear that her parents are lying to protect themselves, so I wouldn’t advise you contacting them. My suggestion therefore is that you come here. I will take you to Ella, and you can tell her about your show, and how much everyone wants to see her safe. I think you might be the only person who can persuade Ella that she deserves better.

Ella is living in Las Vegas, in a rough neighborhood close to downtown. There are direct buses from Provo into Vegas, and the journey takes approximately seven hours. If you let me know which bus you get on, I can pick you up from Bonneville Transit Center – it’s the downtown stop. Meet me at the circular seating area underneath the clock.

I think what you’re doing for Ella is amazing. She’s lucky to have you looking out for her.

See you soon, Brandon

Wow. I blink. Read the message again. Take a photo, then delete it from TikTok – I don’t want Mom seeing this. A man suggesting I cross the state border.

But Ella is in Vegas – the same place I modeled. While I was dreaming about being rich and famous, she was alone and desperate.

Brandon sounds so certain that I will come, so efficient with his bus timetable and pick-up plans. But isn’t it a crazy idea? I rub my eyes. Shit, I’m so tired. I want to help Ella, and I owe her now, for sure. But going to Vegas by myself, meeting up with a guy I don’t know? Brandon could be a psycho, a pedo. This whole story could be pure fantasy, just a way to lure me to Vegas so he can do whatever he wants with me.

I look down at my phone again. I should tell Dylan. We’re a team; that’s what he said. But he’ll insist on coming to Vegas with me, to look out for me. And Dylan is a man, or almost one, and Brandon thinks a guy would scare Ella off. If we lost our chance to save her, then it would be my fault for not being brave enough to go it alone.

Brandon is right that the police won’t care. And Ella’s parents are willing to lie about their daughter rather than see her safe.

I think you might be the only person who can persuade Ella that she deserves better.

Maybe Brandon’s right.

And more than that, maybe Ella is the only person who can save me.

Chapter 63

Kirsten

@USarmyvetAfg2018, TikTok

Y’all can say what you want. Selena Hart is a good Christian mother, and those two teenagers will go to hell for making up shit about her daughter

I was so excited when we moved into this house. It was beautiful, of course. Spacious and light. But more importantly, it represented how successful we’d become. Well, me; it was my hard work that got us here. But the house was also about the future. A palace fit for a family of YouTube millionaires.

With a mortgage to go with it.

So what am I going to do? The twins’ channel is dying from lack of content. Maple’s isn’t far behind. And no one has made me a dollar since that Azione check came through.

I eye the store cupboard. I have never sneaked a sip of wine before lunch, and I will not start now. I have standards. But God, how nice it would be to take the edge off. To be able to forget about the outstanding bills, the anger and impotence frothing under Garrett’s skin. The twins acting like they don’t have a care in the world, and Maple refusing to leave her room.

I wouldn’t let loose like I did on Sunday, of course, recklessly drinking, acting like a woman with nothing left to lose. I was lucky to get home without a DUI, luckier still that Garrett was already asleep, and that he preferred to give me the silent treatment on Monday morning rather than ask why I slept in the guest bedroom. Stu Miller turned out to be a good call too, I think. In fact, the only fallout from my boozy night was that message exchange with Blake.