She glances at me, her eyes blank.
“Someone tampered with the episodes,” I say again, slower. “It’s happening on the back end. At Webizode. They’re screwing with our uploaded video.”
“Why would they do that?”
“For the views,” I say, stopping myself before I add “obviously.” “It’s someone’s idea of a marketing ploy. They’re probably also responsible for the original comments, identifyingthe orb as a ghost. Interns, right? Some sixteen-year-old marketing exec wannabe who’s trying to wow the boss with a creative scheme.”
Trinity nods dully. “Okay.”
“We have to—” My phone rings. Webizode’s number fills the screen. “Perfect timing. Let me handle this. An intern is about to be sacked.”
I’mnot nearly as badass on the phone call. I’m polite and calm. Our contact—Oscar—is touching base about the comment I flagged, but I want to talk about the video first. I explain that I’ve examined the original video, and there’s no sign of an orb. Then I pause to let that sink in.
He’s quiet long enough that I’m about to prod, when he speaks in that way of his that I’m sure he thinks is gentle but is patronizing as hell. Is that what Trinity hears when I address her concerns? Shit. I’ll need to be more careful. There’s a fine line between “gentle” and “patronizing,” and I might be straying as far over it as Oscar is.
“I know you girls are very invested in the success of your show, Hannah,” he says. “We all are. But I might suggest that if you have marketing ideas, you run them past our team first. That’s what we’re here for.”
“Marketing ideas?”
“Your brand is science,” he says in that same slow, patronizing way. “You are both brilliant girls, and even while inebriated, you explain complex concepts in a way that’s both enlightening and entertaining. You have a great package, and you don’t need to muddy it with…” He pauses, as if struggling for words. “Off-brand theatrics.”
“You thinkwe’redoing this? I just said it’s not on our uploaded?—”
“I know you’ve seen a jump in stats, but you’re attracting the wrong kind of viewers, ones who will dilute your brand.”
“We aren’t?—”
“We’ve noticed you girls haven’t discussed the orb on camera, and we weren’t sure you realized it was there. We were debating whether to tell you to adjust your lighting. If it’s a marketing ploy, though? That would be a violation of your contract.”
“We didn’t put it there. We don’twantit there. The fact that it’s not on the original means it’s coming from the other end of the process.”
A long pause. “You thinkwe’redoing this?”
“I don’t actually care. Just make it stop. It’s upsetting—” I glance at Trinity, who’s listening in. “Upsettingus. Now, what I originally messaged about is something else that’s upsetting us. Those comments. I’m presuming the fact that they don’t actually say ‘murder’ gets them past comment moderation. Your moderator needs to be more careful.”
“That’s why I was calling, Hannah. To discuss the comments. They’re bypassing moderation.”
“Exactly. Whoever is moderating is letting them?—”
“No, I mean they’rebypassingmoderation. And the only account that can do that is the one you two share.”
“Sure, our account isn’t moderated but… Wait. Are you suggesting?—?”
Trinity hits the Speaker button. “Oscar? Trinity here. Are you saying someone posted those comments fromourcomputer?”
“Yes,” he says.
“The call is coming from inside the house,” I intone.
She glares at me.
“That means someone’s hacked our account,” I say.
Oscar doesn’t reply.
“Track the IP address,” I say. “Find out where exactly those comments came from.”
More silence.
