She sat in front of an open laptop, the keys tapping frantically. Every few moments she would pause, tilt her head as if listening, then resume writing.
I debated slipping back up to my room, but curiosity got the better of me. I watched her.
She moved to the side, and I made to duck back behind the wall. But then I saw it on the screen.
Those unmistakable colours. Black and red.
I knew that page like the back of my hand.
She was on the forum.
My blood turned to ice.
I squinted, trying to make out what she was typing, willing her to move to the side again. The words were too small to read from this distance, but I could see her scrolling, scrolling, scrolling. I wanted to stay, to confront her, but I also didn’t want to be caught prowling though secret passages when there was talk of a potential murderer picking off the family.
But I needed to see what she was up to.
Suddenly, Jeannie’s head snapped up. I ducked back behind the pantry door, heart pounding.
Had she heard me?
After a tense moment, the tapping resumed. Heart fluttering like a caged bird, I let out a silent breath of relief.
Just then, a floorboard creaked somewhere in the house.
Jeannie’s back straightened. She turned in her seat, swivelling to look around the kitchen. I shrank back into the shadows. This was so stupid of me. I needed to get the hell out of here.
She turned back to the laptop. Her fingers flew over the keys as she typed out a new post. I strained to see what she was writing, but the angle was all wrong. Then I heard claws on tile, followed by sniffing. Suddenly Gloria’s great big golden head appeared in the crack of the doorway and she nuzzled herself in. She came straight up to me, panting with excitement and wagging her tail. I looked at her, my eyes wide, silently motioning for her to be quiet, my finger to my lips.
Gloria didn’t get the memo. She was not cloak-and-daggers like the rest of us.
‘Out! Come on!’ Jeannie snapped, not tearing away her attention from the task in front of her, ‘No more biscuits, Gloria!’
Gloria snuffed and lolloped back into the kitchen.
Jeannie closed the laptop, picked it up in her arms and followed her out. ‘Come on, into bed,’ I heard her say as her voice faded away.
I waited for as long as I could, before heading back the way I had come.
Creeping through the darkness, blood rushing in my ears and pounding through my veins, I went quickly back up the stairs.
My foot scraped against something once more. I stooped, my hand grazing over grit and dust before it landed on something small and papery. I picked it up and went as quickly as I could in the pitch dark, back to what I hoped was the safety of our room.
Once inside our bedroom, I had to stop a moment to still my racing heart. Then I crept to the en suite, clicked the door closed behind me and put the loo seat down. Opening my laptop, I went straight to the forum.
SUBJECT: AUTHOR OLIVIA WEISS IS A FRAUD
OpinionatedOgre1
Olivia Weiss doesn’t write her own books. See attached, an email forwarded to me by an insider, concrete proof she uses a ghostwriter…
BlackP!ll25
This is effing gold!
StaceeBabe
