Chapter 4

"Bad idea." Cole's voice came from the stairs.

I nearly dropped my keys. "You following me now?"

"Your car's been in the same spot for two days." He leaned against the railing. "Figured you'd bolt eventually."

"I'm not bolting. I'm going home."

"To stream."

I didn't answer. He knew.

"Ivy." He came down two steps. "They're watching your channel. You go live, you're lighting a flare."

"Good." I unlocked my car. "Let them watch."

"That's not—"

"I've got seventy-three dollars in my account, Cole. Rent's due in five days. I can't just disappear because some asshole with a super chat thinks they're clever."

He was quiet for a second. Then: "Your mom said the same thing."

I stopped.

"She kept working. Kept showing up at the same clinic every week. Thought if she acted normal, they'd move on." His voice was flat. "They didn't."

I turned around. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know. She went dark before I could get there. No body. No trail. Just gone."

My hand tightened on the door handle. "Then maybe she got out."

"Maybe." He didn't sound like he believed it. "Or maybe she made it easy for them."

I got in the car. Slammed the door. He knocked on the window.

I rolled it down an inch.

"If you're doing this," he said, "do it smart. Stream from somewhere public. Coffee shop. Library. Somewhere with cameras and people."

"Yeah, sure. I'll just set up my full rig at a Starbucks."

"Ivy—"

"I'm not hiding." I started the engine. "Not anymore."

He stepped back. I didn't look at him in the rearview.

Twenty minutes later I was home. My actual apartment, the one I paid way too much for because it had decent upload speed and the landlord didn't ask questions. I locked the door. Double-checked it. Then checked again.

My setup was still where I left it. Two monitors, LED strips I got on sale, the mic arm I saved three paychecks for. My chair still had the dent from the last twelve-hour stream. Everything normal. Everything mine.

I sat down.

Opened the streaming software.

My reflection stared back from the black monitor. I looked like shit. When did I last sleep? Actually sleep, not that half-awake thing where every sound outside made my heart kick.

My phone buzzed. A text from Dennis this time.

*Cole called me. Don't do this.*

I put the phone face down.

My hands hovered over the keyboard. I could still back out. Go dark for a month. Maybe two. Let whoever Silent_Tracker was get bored and move on.

Or I could go live. Pull viewers. Make rent. And if someone was watching—if they wanted to find me—they already had enough.

I hit the Start Stream button.

The software took a second to connect. Then the viewer count popped up. Zero. One. Four. Fifteen.

"Hey." My voice sounded weird. Too tight. I cleared my throat. "Been a few days. Sorry about that. Got sick."

The chat started moving.

**xXDarkXx:** *yo she's alive*

**coff33zombie:** *we thought u quit*

**JaxAttaxx:** *missed u ivy*

Fifty viewers. Seventy. That was more than usual for a random Thursday night.

"Yeah, not quitting." I forced a smile. Didn't turn on the camera. Never did. "Just had some stuff. Anyway. Let's get into it."

I launched Lunar Hunt. The game loaded—same dark forest, same blood moon lighting, same howls in the distance. Except now it felt different. Like someone put a mirror in front of me and said, That's you.

I pushed the thought down.

**coff33zombie:** *doing the dlc tonight?*

"Maybe. Let's see how far we get."

One hundred and twelve viewers. My notifications were going off. New follows. A couple small donations. Three bucks here. Five there. It added up.

Then a super chat popped up. Fifty dollars.

**Silent_Tracker:** *Welcome back.*

My hand froze on the mouse.

The chat exploded.

**xXDarkXx:** *YOOOO*

**JaxAttaxx:** *big spender in the house*

**coff33zombie:** *silent tracker always comes thru*

I swallowed. "Uh. Thanks, Silent. Appreciate it."

Another super chat. Twenty dollars.

**Silent_Tracker:** *You sound tired. Sleeping okay?*

My stomach dropped.

"Yeah. Fine." I moved my character forward in the game. Tried to sound casual. "Just been busy."

**Silent_Tracker:** *Busy hiding?*

The chat slowed down. A few people typed question marks.

I kept playing. Didn't answer.

Another super chat. One hundred dollars this time.

**Silent_Tracker:** *We should talk. Off stream.*

"I don't do private calls." My voice came out sharper than I meant. "Sorry. Just a policy."

**xXDarkXx:** *why this getting weird*

**JaxAttaxx:** *lol drama*

My phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced down. A message from an unknown number.

*You're making this harder than it needs to be.*

I picked up the phone. My hand was shaking.

Another text came through.

*I'm not here to hurt you. But they are. And you just told them exactly where you live.*

I looked at the monitor. At the reflection of my window behind me. The curtains were open. The light from my setup probably visible from the street.

I stood up. Fast. My chair rolled back and hit the wall.

"Hold on, chat. Technical issue."

I crossed to the window. Reached for the curtain.

Then I stopped.

My hand hovered there. If I closed it now, I was admitting they had me. That I was scared. That I was exactly what they thought I was.

I turned back to the setup. The viewer count hit two hundred. Two fifty. Highest I'd ever had.

I sat back down. Pulled the mic closer.

"Actually, you know what? No technical issue." I unmuted. "I'm good. Let's keep going."

The chat was moving too fast to read now.

I played. Focused on the game. On the viewers. On the donations still rolling in. Twelve bucks. Eight. Twenty.

My phone buzzed again.

*Ivy. Please.*

I picked it up. Held it in front of the mic.

"See this?" I said to the stream. To whoever was watching. "People keep texting me. Calling me. Telling me what to do. Where to go. What's safe." I put the phone down. "I'm not disappearing again. I'm here. I'm streaming. And if anyone's got a problem with that, they know where to find me."

The viewer count hit three hundred.

My heart was pounding but it felt good. It felt like I was finally doing something instead of just running.

Then a new super chat pinned itself at the top of the screen. Two hundred and fifty dollars.

**Silent_Tracker:** *Kill the back light, Ivy. Your sister doesn't want blood on the floor.*

Everything stopped.

Sister.

I stared at the words.

The chat went silent for three seconds. Then it exploded.

**xXDarkXx:** *WHAT*

**coff33zombie:** *sister???? ivy u got a sister???*

**JaxAttaxx:** *this is some ARG shit*

My mouth was dry. I tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Another text hit my phone.

*Look outside.*

I didn't move.

My hands stayed on the keyboard. My eyes on the monitor. On that super chat.

*Your sister doesn't want blood on the floor.*

I didn't have a sister.

Did I?