Page 59 of Someone Just Followed You

Recognition. The slimy kind.

Chapter 67

Maple & Dylan

@TommyInfluenza, TikTok

Technical problems??? I bet her evil momager locked her in the basement lollll. Who’s with me, guys? #findMaple

Dylan: Hey, everyone. Thanks for joining us again today and happy Friday. Sorry Maple isn’t with us yet, I guess she’s having some technical problems, but I’m sure she’ll be here soon. Anyway, I know Maple wouldn’t want me to go ahead and talk about Ella without her, but this little bit of a delay does give me an opportunity to address something else. And you probably know what I’m going to say, because if you’ve been following this story, I’m willing to bet that you’ve watched Selena and Bodi Hart’s YouTube short from earlier this week. Well, I just want to say that they may have finished with some big line about how Maple and I should be ashamed of what we’ve done, but let’s not forget who lied here. Who supposedly protected their daughter by making up some big bullshit story that just happened to complement their brand identity perfectly. Now, I know there’ll be a range of opinions on this, and yeah, I can see there are loads of comments coming through on the chat. Listen, I will address them, but I might not be able to read all those while I’m flying solo, so if you could just be patient on that, wait for Maple to come online, that would be great. In fact, do you know what, I’m just going to message her again now, check how she’s getting on. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back any second. And with Maple too, I’m sure. Hold on.

Chapter 68

Kirsten

@TyroneMB05, TikTok

I don’t know about you, but I am sniffing the sweet smell of bullshit from every single one of those social media whores

I frown. Why isn’t Maple online with Dylan?

And also, why is my heart pounding? It’s not like she’s missing. She just hasn’t shown up for her YouTube Live – the show I keep telling her to leave. Maybe she’s finally wised up, listened to my advice for a change. But my palms are clammy as I slide my laptop away. And when I knock the barstool over with my foot, my gasp sounds more like a scream.

But why am I being so dramatic? There is nothing to worry about. Maple is upstairs, in her room, where she spends most of her life these days. And this anxiety I’m feeling will be the stress of yesterday’s argument with Garrett and the hellish migraine that came after. I right the barstool and draw my shoulders down.

Except, it’s also true that I didn’t see Maple last night – the migraine getting so bad that I crawled into bed with two double-strength Advil around eight o’clock. Which means I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning.

Which isn’t ideal, I realize now.

I head for the stairs. Slowly, as though I’m not sure I want to know what’s coming.

After my fight with Garrett, I was grateful when I discovered Maple had gone out. I needed a moment to reset, to remind myself that Garrett is absolutely her father, whatever he says to the contrary. It’s a truth I decided on a long time ago, and I’m not changing it for anyone.

But now I’m suddenly desperate to see her. And more than that, to see myself in her, to remind myself why I chose my husband. Who I did it for.

When Maple didn’t show up for lunch yesterday, I tracked her location and found that she was at Milly’s house. A while later, I checked again, and she was at the mall, clearly enjoying some retail therapy with her friend. Then when Garrett announced he was taking the twins to his parents for the night, my migraine swelled and throbbed so badly that Maple’s text confirming that she was fine felt like enough reassurance for me to crawl into bed.

But as I knock on her bedroom door now, then push it open, my nerves tingle. It looks exactly like it always does. Her vanity covered in beauty products, clothes spilling out of her closet. Chargers like spaghetti slithering out from plug sockets. But no Maple.

I roll my shoulders.

She must have slept over at Milly’s. Yes, that makes sense. That’s why I didn’t hear her come back in. I whip out my phone. I have all of Maple’s friends’ numbers stored, partly because I’m a hands-on mom, a vigilant mom. But also because they’ve become like friends over the years, all the fun content they’ve helped create for our Maybe Maple channel, and the gratitude they’ve shown me for giving them a tiny taste of fame. It’s created bonds that not many moms can claim.

I send Milly a message:

Hey sweets, is Maple with you?

And I get a reply in seconds.

No, sorry. She came over yesterday but left around 3 or 4.

I saw she wasn’t on her show. Is Maple missing?

My stomach lurches. No, Maple is not missing. She’s just not here right now. I don’t bother replying, but I send messages to Taylor, Scarlett and Martha, Maple’s other good friends. They all come back quickly – it’s an undeniable fact that teenagers are glued to their phones; this is why I’m right about influencers ruling the world one day – but with nothing helpful. Taylor’s in Vancouver on a family vacation, and the other two are on a summer camp together in Arizona. None of them have heard from Maple in days.

I feel a bit sick, but I can’t work out if it’s from fear or annoyance. My migraine faded overnight but it’s left me with a headache, and I really don’t need to deal with this drama too. I check Find My iPhone – I’m not sure why I didn’t do this first – but after whirring for a while, it places Maple close to Provo Towne Centre mall. Fourteen hours ago.

I drop onto her bed.