“The waiting room is down the hall,” she called. “You can wait for Mateo there.”
“This is exactly why I want to move her.” Mateo scowled at the nurse’s retreating form. “Valentina needs to be around people who care, whether or not they’re related.”
“I doubt it will be any different wherever you go, and I’m sure they have their reasons.” Layla pulled off her mask, rolled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trash. “Listen, don’t mind me. Go see your little sis, and tell her I said hello. Take as long as you need.”
Mateo shot her an incredulous look. “That’s it? Since when do you give up so easily and cave to the rules?”
A moment later, Layla was donning a new mask, pulling on a fresh set of gloves, and following Mateo inside to where his little sister had fallen asleep watching TV.
They settled into the two available chairs and stared blankly at the screen. While the Nickelodeon channel wouldn’t have been Layla’s first choice, it was better than some depressing news station where the reporters gleefully chronicled all the various ways humanity was going to hell. The pediatric oncology wing was depressing enough on its own; she didn’t need further proof of just how bleak the world really was.
Surprisingly, the canned laugh track proved to be oddly soothing, and Layla spent a few blissfully empty minutes staring mindlessly at the show unfolding before her.
Layla had the worst poker face of anyone she knew, and so she’d been secretly relieved to find Valentina asleep. She needed a moment to adjust to the sight of Mateo’s little sister—a perennially upbeat and happy girl who was always bursting with energy—looking so sickly and pale.
God, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen Valentina. She’d blown off her last birthday party with the excuse of needing to focus on winning the Unrivaled contest, which, looking back, she’d never really stood a chance at. Then again, she could see all sorts of things now that she’d refused to acknowledge back then. Hindsight truly was a bitch.
The show faded to commercial, and Layla scrolled through her Twitter and Facebook feeds, though she didn’t bother with checking her Instagram or Snapchat accounts, having abandoned them as soon as she became ensnared in the Madison fiasco. She was tired of people hijacking her personal pics and using them for derogatory memes that had quickly gone viral.
She skimmed through her emails, half expecting to see one from Emerson chewing her out for leaving the launch party early, but finding that wasn’t the case, she figured he was holding out for Monday. She was just about to click over to her blog when she noticed an unsent message sitting in her drafts folder—the sight of which gave her pause.
It had been a hectic few weeks, but Layla couldn’t remember drafting a single email she hadn’t yet sent.
Clicking on the folder, she blinked in confusion when she found an email message addressed to her that she definitely hadn’t written.
I know you think you’re running the show
But here’s a tip you really should know
It’s all too easy for me to hack your life
And the things I’ll do will cut like a knife
If you’re thinking of alerting the cops
Then let me remind you, I’m prepared to pull out all the stops
If you think you should forward this message to someone who cares
Let me assure you, I’ll unleash some big scares
While you don’t see me, I can see you
And I’m telling you now, here’s what you’re going to do
Very soon a surprise will appear
It’s your job to claim it without causing too many tears
Somewhere deep inside awaits yet another surprise I know you’ll enjoy
Either way, it’s time you do what I say, cuz I’m done playing coy.
Just after reading the message, Layla watched as it vanished from her screen and disappeared from both her drafts and trash folders as well.
Someone was watching her, electronically, remotely, up close and personal, or most likely, all of the above.
The thought caused Layla to spring from her chair so quickly it slammed back against the wall and caused Valentina to wake with a start.