Page 69 of Don’t Open Your Eyes

“Oh my gosh, that’s terrible! Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. I’m on my way to the hospital now.”

“Hold on, let me get Avery. As far as I know, she had no plans with Scarlett today.”

Her heart dropped. Scarlett had lied to them. What could she be hiding? A few minutes later, Avery’s mother was back.

Annabelle felt sick to her stomach as Avery’s mom told her that Scarlett had been conversing with a boy named Ben that she met online.

“Avery said they were meeting at the coffee shop downtown today.”

“I’ve never heard of this Ben. Do you know anything else about him?”

“Let me put my daughter on.”

“Mrs. Reynolds?”

“Avery, what is going on? Who is Ben? How long has this been going on?”

She could hear Avery crying. “I’m sorry. I covered for her. She said she knew she could trust him. I tried to get her to find out more about him. All I know is that his name is Ben, and he lives in Chicago. He said he was coming here with his dad, who was in town for a business trip. I’ve seen his Instagram. I can send you the link.”

Annabelle tightened her hands into fists, doing everything she could not to scream. “Yes, please send it.” When she ended the call, she turned to the officer. “I think she met a predator online. She must have been trying to get away from him.” Her whole body was shaking now, and she hugged herself to try to stop it. She clicked on the link Avery sent, and it took her to Instagram. It was a good-looking young kid. Model good-looking. The kind of picture a catfisher would use. The name was generic—Ben Smith. “Can you get a warrant to see who the Instagram page belongs to?”

“Yes, definitely. When we get to the hospital you can give the information to the detective meeting us there.”

Annabelle wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her dreams had warned her, and she had dismissed them. “Can you go any faster?” she pleaded. “Please. Hurry!”

Annabelle

The police officer escorted Annabelle into the Emergency Room and was able to get her taken up to the Intensive Care Unit right away. “What’s happening with my daughter?” she asked at the nurses’ station, banging on the glass to get someone’s attention. A woman looked up and met her eyes. She walked around to Annabelle.

“Are you Scarlett’s mother?”

“Yes. Where is she?”

“She’s being evaluated. She was unconscious when she was brought in, and the doctors sent her for a CAT scan. Please come sit down.” She led Annabelle to the small waiting room adjoining the unit. “I know this is scary, and I promise that as soon as we have more information, we’ll update you. We’re taking good care of your daughter.”

Annabelle collapsed onto the sofa, numb with shock. This couldn’t be happening. How had her perfect life turned into this nightmare? It took her a moment to register that a man was standing in the corner, looking at her. He walked over to her.

“I’m Detective Stanton. Officer Blake said that your daughter was meeting someone. Do you know who?”

“Some boy named Ben, according to her friend.”

“My partner questioned people at the coffee shop. They said she was talking to a man. Conflicting descriptions, unfortunately. The only consistent thing was a white male in his thirties or forties, average height and weight.”

Annabelle’s heart sank. So it was some predator masquerading as a boy. She pulled her phone out and went to the text from Avery, showing it to the detective. “This is who Scarlett thought she was talking to. It’s the first I’ve heard of him. Her friend said they’ve been texting for a couple of months now.”

“I have her phone. It was in her backpack. Do you know her passcode?” the detective asked.

Annabelle nodded. He gave her the phone, and she typed in the code. The phone opened. She handed it back to the detective with a shaking hand.

After a few minutes, he looked up. “I don’t see any text chains with a Ben. Only some between her and Avery, some texts from you and your husband and an Olivia.”

“Maybe she erased them?” Annabelle said.

“Probably. I’ll give this to our tech folks and they’ll be able to tell.” He went back to swiping the phone. “Hmm. She has WhatsApp. I wonder if they used that.”

Annabelle looked up, surprised. “She wouldn’t have known about that app. He must have suggested it.” Annabelle knew people used it when they wanted their texts to be encrypted and not easily hacked. Who in the hell had Scarlett been communicating with?