The Follower by Kate Doughty (guided reading books txt) 📗

But that meant that the voice on the tape . . .

Kendra continues; she doesn’t seem to notice Amber’s freeze-up. “Her little cousin loved that nickname—wouldn’t stop repeating it. We had so much fun in the nooks and crannies around here,” she continues, wistful. “Used to play around in the dumbwaiter, occasionally get forced into babysitting.”

“C-cousin?” Amber stutters. She left behind extended family in Norton and a young daughter. This young daughter. The one they hadn’t been able to find any record of . . .

Kendra nods. “Quiet little girl, but I don’t know who wouldn’t be a little . . . messed up after what happened to her parents. It was so sad. And Alex, too—it couldn’t have been easy. But for Alex to . . .” Her voice trails off; her face is drawn. She gives Jada and Amber a tight smile. “The important thing is that you girls be . . . good to each other, you know? Sometimes I think that if Alex had the support she needed . . .” She doesn’t finish her thought. Jada gives her aunt’s hand a squeeze, and Kendra shakes herself out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry—I’m sure no one wants to hear these things, especially on a day like today! The house is lovely, Amber. And it was so, so nice to meet you.”

Amber nods. She feels . . . numb.

But I don’t want to see it there;

So that star had to die.

Amber sees a flash of recognition in Jada’s eyes. She gives Kendra a brief goodbye before pushing off through the crowd—she can discuss details with Jada later. Right now, she needs to find Rudy.

Shooting star. And a cousin who couldn’t stop repeating the words. Frank Glenarm’s surviving daughter had lived with Alex Grable. And Alex and her mother had died after moving into that little girl’s house.

Amber’s skin prickles. What if Alex hadn’t killed her mom? What if Alex hadn’t killed herself? What if that young cousin is still alive?

She needs to find Rudy.

There’s a shriek from the foyer. Amber had been distracted from her post; she hasn’t been watching the carpeting—and now there he is. Steve, standing on the hardwood, the end of the carpet in his hands. Yanking it up for all the world to see:

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE

Amber rushes toward him, but it’s too late—about a hundred cell phones are pointed at the text, still all too visible, outlined on the floor. She can already feel her phone buzzing with notifications on their account . . .

Amber navigates the crowd, shoving aside gawkers and well-to-do families without notice or apology.

Steve locks gazes with her and stares her down. “Why would you vandalize your own house?” he asks. “Not popular enough on the internet already, huh? What really happened to Cecily? Why are you hiding—”

“Get out of my house!”

Amber flinches at the fury in her dad’s voice. He’s marching toward Steve, all the exhaustion and pain and stress of the last few weeks igniting, exploding into a shout that sounds more than a little unhinged. Steve jerks his gaze away from Amber and toward her father, staggering backward. He stumbles into the wall, knocking off one of the stock photos. It falls, hits the floor, cracks—and reveals the red, bloodlike smears beneath. All the cell phones photographing the house pivot to him, but Mr. Cole doesn’t notice. He hasn’t been trained like Amber and her siblings.

“You think you can come in here and trash my home?” he yells, too loud, too angry, too unaware of exactly how terrified Steve has become.

“Dad,” Amber starts, finally breaking through the crowd—but it’s like she’s not even there. “Dad!” Across the room, Officer Perry, too, is pushing toward the disturbance, eyes wide with what must be adrenaline.

“Robert!” Her mother is at his side now, gripping his bicep in a vice, tearing him off Steve and twisting him around so that he can see.

Everyone in the open house has their cameras out, broadcasting the Coles to the world. Amber doesn’t even bother asking them not to post it. She can already feel her phone vibrating; it’s too late. The video is already up. A livestream. And they have been tagged.

LIVE House Party Fight! THIS IS THE REAL COLE FAMILY.

CHAPTER 24

Rudy

The video looks as bad as it sounds. The first one—the one that went viral—was shot from a strange angle, so that the viewer can’t see why Mr. Cole was suddenly shouting at Steve. All that’s apparent is that one second Steve is saying something, and the next Mr. Cole is threatening him in front of the entire party.

Other videos, of course, show off the follower’s whole message on the floor.

The aftermath is one of sound: Rudy, Amber, and Cecily sit by the dumbwaiter and listen to Mrs. Cole’s footsteps as she paces around the kitchen, finally breaking to shout at their father in a fierce, desperate climax: “You ruin everything! This is all because of you!”

Rudy hears his mom’s voice crack and then the muffled sounds of sobbing. Even after their mother’s breakdown has long faded into the sounds of cleaning up the open house, Amber still can’t stop crying. Cecily looks the way Rudy feels: numb.

A short while later, Mrs. Cole comes upstairs.

“I need you and Amber to shoot a video with Dad,” she says, her eyes on Rudy. “An apology video.”

So they set up the camera. While Rudy and Cecily position key lights and chairs in front of a sad beige wall, he listens to Amber trying to coach their father. “Listen, Dad, just say you’re sorry and try to sound . . . sound genuine, okay? Say what happened, and say you’re sorry that you scared Steve. Are you sure you don’t want a script?”

But their dad shakes his head.

They set him in the frame, seated between Rudy and Amber. Cecily presses Record.

Mr. Cole opens his mouth and closes it. Nothing comes out.

“It’s okay, Dad,” Amber says. “Whenever you’re ready.”

But Dad isn’t ready. When he finally speaks, it’s stiff, canned. “I want to