I was already high on anxiety, with a pounding headache from the night's events, so opening up the laptop was just putting a cherry on top, but sleep was out of the question. And so was sketching. Taking pencil to paper was usually therapeutic for me, but sometimes, when I got too into it, I would have the same blackout spell that I’d had earlier, where I’d travel back to the not-so-distant past, and that was the last thing I needed at the moment. No, thank you. One traumatic visit from the past was enough for me.
Dropping my knees to sit cross-legged, I pulled the laptop closer, glancing at Sloane and Mercedes to make sure they weren’t about to catch me searching stuff on the web that I “shouldn't under any circumstances” be searching, per Richard’s threats. But if I wanted to get on with my plan, I needed to learn all there was to know about Judge Stallard and his many, many connections. I hoped it would lead me right to Tobias.
The keys of the laptop were cool under my touch, my fingers shaking slightly as they rested along flexible rubber. The ache in my head wasn’t nearly as bad as before, but the brightness of the screen in the dark room caused my eyes to burn.
I’d just opened the search engine, my heart pounding wildly, the echo of it almost deafening in the near silent room, and that was when I heard a slight ping. A soft gasp escaped, as if it had sprung right out of my nervous stomach. My gaze widened at the little box in the far-left corner that said I had a new message. I had no idea what it was. I had hardly used my laptop since getting here, but the more it blinked, the more I panicked. Sweat started to form on my hairline, my head thumping in sync with my rapid heart rate. Breathe, Gemma. Just breathe. I shut my eyes, removing my hands from the laptop, and counted to ten before I went into a full-on spiral like earlier.
When I opened my eyes again, I glanced at the girls asleep on Sloane’s bed. Mercedes had shifted a little, likely from hearing my little outburst, but her chest was moving softly like before.
After bringing my attention back to the glow of my screen, I took a steady breath and clicked the flashing icon. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until I began to see stars dance in front of my vision. A heavy burst of air left me, staring at the words in the message.
* * *
Good Girl, meet me in the hall in five.
* * *
As each second passed, my heart thumped harder. Blood rushed to my ears as my skin grew slicker with sweat. I reread the message a few more times before another one came in.
* * *
Stop second-guessing yourself. I won’t bite.
* * *
My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a trap. There was no way Richard knew I was sitting upright in bed in the middle of the night on a laptop he didn’t even know I had, messaging me as if he were Isaiah. That was...irrational.
* * *
Isaiah? I typed, still needing the confirmation.
* * *
He messaged back within a second.
* * *
Who else calls you Good Girl? Of course it’s Isaiah.
* * *
A sarcastic laugh threatened to escape my lips. If he only knew that he wasn’t the only one who called me Good Girl.
Feeling brave, I typed out another response.
* * *
How did you know I was on the computer and that I’d get your message?
* * *
Another ping sounded as I bit my thumbnail.
* * *
I didn’t.
* * *