Page 74 of Heat Unwritten
"What is it?" I demanded, ripping the driver's door open. "Did she call? Is she hurt?"
"She didn't call," Simon whispered, turning his phone screen toward me.
It was social media. The trend list.
#1 TRENDING: #GraduationGirlFound
#2 TRENDING: #TKRoseExposed
My blood turned to ice. The world narrowed down to the glowing pixels of the screen.
"What am I looking at?" I asked, though I already knew. The dread in my gut was a heavy, cold stone.
"It's a leak," Simon choked out. "Someone doxxed her. Not the old stuff. New stuff."
He tapped a link.
A video played. It was grainy, shaky footage taken from a drone, hovering outside a familiar glass house on a cliff edge. It showed a woman walking past a window.
Then, a document. A medical record hacked from the Omega Health Foundation database, showing a distress ping at specific GPS coordinates.
"They connected the dots," Daniel said, his voice a low growl of pure fury. "They linked the medical emergency ping to the Graduation Girl video location."
"Look at the timestamp on the leak," Simon said, looking up at me with terrified eyes. "It was posted ten minutes ago. While we were driving."
"The swarm," I whispered.
I didn't need to explain. We all knew. The internet didn't just watch; it hunted. If the coordinates were public, if the drone footage was live...
"The paparazzi," I realized, the horror crashing over me. "They aren't just online. They're physical."
I threw the medical supplies into the passenger seat.
"Get in!" I roared. "Get in the goddamn car!"
Daniel dove into the back with Simon. I slammed the door and turned the key; the engine screaming as I floored the accelerator in neutral before slamming it into drive.
"How long?" Daniel demanded, leaning forward, his hand gripping my shoulder hard enough to bruise. "How long do we have before they reach the house?"
"They're already there," I said, swinging the SUV out of the lot, tires smoking. "The drones are the first wave. If there are vans... if they have amplification..."
"She's alone," Simon cried. "Anders, we left her alone!"
"Call her!" I shouted, tearing down the main street, blowing a red light. "Call the sat-phone!"
Daniel was already dialing. He put it on speaker.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
Silence.
Ring... Ring...
"Pick up," Daniel pleaded. "Tessa, pick up."
Nothing.
I looked at the road ahead. The grey sky seemed darker now, ominous.
