The Follower Kate Doughty (general ebook reader .txt) 📖

“Ha ha,” he calls out. “Very funny.” But no one answers. It must have been Cecily messing with him, or their dad moving furniture around upstairs.

His mind wanders and replays the messages from the livestream as he slowly, methodically works to unravel the cassette tape. He’s too jumpy for this kind of focused work tonight, he decides. He puts the tape down and pops an old Alanis Morissette tape he’d found in the box into the cassette player. He leans back and tries to let the music distract him from the memory of the repeating messages.

I warned you.

I warned you.

I warned you.

CHAPTER 12

Cecily

The livestream destroyed it. Number three on trending. Fifteen thousand new followers, more than two million views and counting. It’s more than Cecily or her siblings had ever hoped for. They review the results over breakfast on the porch: yogurt for Cecily, coffee for Amber, and cereal for Rudy, who’d discovered earlier that his protein powder had been thrown out in the kitchen purge following his allergy attack.

Amber scans their messages, a concerned expression on her face.

“There are a lot of people who are worried,” she murmurs as she takes another sip of her coffee. “They think we’re going to get murdered by the ghost or the follower or both. I think it’s the younger end of our demographic—a bunch of concerned twelve-year-olds.”

“And what about the older end?” Rudy asks.

Amber shrugs. “Half of them are just here for the drama; the other half thinks it’s totally fake and the ghost story isn’t even real.”

Cecily shudders. She can’t stop thinking of the livestream, of the repeating messages. I warned you. How they said that Rudy shouldn’t be alive—what had that meant? And Speckles . . . her poor little bunny . . .

The empty cage is still in her room. She hasn’t had the heart to throw it out yet.

“Maybe they should be concerned,” Cecily says. She sucks in a breath. She’d been up all last night, thinking. YOU shouldn’t be ALIVE. “The follower . . . do you think they somehow knew what happened to Rudy?”

Rudy and Amber pause.

“They couldn’t have,” Amber says finally. “They were just messing with us ’cause Rudy wasn’t in frame.”

“There’s no way they could have known,” Rudy says, in clear agreement with Amber. “You’re being paranoid, sis.”

Cecily chews on her lower lip. “What about the ghost?” she whispers. “When Amber said that thing, inviting the ghost in . . . the follower seemed kind of spooked. By Alex Grable, I mean.”

“Aw, come on,” Rudy says through a mouthful of cereal. “Everything is fine, Cece. My face is back to normal, and look at that engagement! Seriously, even you have to admit that messing with this ghost girl and the creepy follower is the best thing that’s ever happened to us. Our account hasn’t been this interesting in years.”

Cecily cringes. She’s about to answer when Mrs. Cole appears with a cup of coffee. “And it’s going to stop being that interesting,” she says. “I know it’s fun, kids, but . . . your dad and I talked about it last night, and we’re a little concerned about this Alex Grable follower.”

“Mom, we haven’t pulled views like this, well, ever!” Rudy protests.

Mrs. Cole presses her lips together. “We’re a house-flipping account, not . . . stalker bait, or whatever is going on with this psycho. That’s why our fanbase is here—of course, that and you three—and that’s why they’ll stay. Last night that troll took things too far. Post all the ghost stuff you want, but block him. Amber, post an announcement later.”

“Hey, just because you’re mad at me, don’t take it out on the account,” Rudy cries. “I didn’t take that stupid plaque; come on, you can’t still be mad—”

“Our minds are made up, Rudy,” Mrs. Cole says. Cecily tries to hide her sigh of relief; she can feel the muscles in her back relax as her mom leaves. She knows that Rudy is disappointed, but . . . maybe now things have a chance at going back to normal. Still, she needs to calm down. She knows what will help—a girls’ night with her new friend Bella. She’s sure Mom won’t mind. She dashes off a quick text to Bella.

In desperate need of some fun. Makeovers? A sleepover? Tomorrow night?

The reply comes instantly: Definitely!

Their post goes up later that afternoon:

Thank you so much for all your support! We’re thrilled to have such success with the livestream and to have so many new faces joining the Cole Patrol. And we’d like to announce that we’ve blocked certain accounts responsible for our online harassment so we can continue giving you the content you love!

Cecily lies on the cold, hard new flooring in the study, wishing Amber would stop staring at their account long enough to take her photo and be done with it. Noise echoes around them; the crew is almost done putting the flooring in the kitchen. Then, it’s the rest of the downstairs, followed by an endless list of refurbishing old furniture, buying new pieces, painting walls, designing the bedrooms—it makes Cecily’s head hurt just thinking about it.

The crew finished the flooring in the study first, so Cecily is posing to show off the new aesthetic. Or she would be, if Amber weren’t so distracted. Cecily arches her back, poses, and Amber snaps a picture.

“Was that good?”

Amber doesn’t answer. Something on her phone has her complete and undivided attention.

“You’re not seriously thinking about revising the statement again, are you?” Cecily asks.

Then Amber looks up and turns beet red. Cecily reads her expression and grins. She darts across the room and all but pounces on her sister. “You’re texting her! Bonfire girl.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. And she has a name—shit.” Amber looks up at Cecily. “Okay, fine. I got Jada’s number at the party, and despite the . . . freak-out . . . she seems to still want to hang out with me. I’m just trying not