Dark Secret - Avelyn Paige Page 0,17
charm, and frowns. “Can we talk somewhere else? Pretty sure the boy band posters are eye fucking me.”
A snort of laughter escapes through my nose in the most unladylike fashion, making Wyatt grin. “Downstairs,” I say through my chuckle. “We can sit out on the patio.”
As we hit the main floor, I see Lorna peering around the corner with worry creasing her wrinkled forehead. I give her a tight smile and point to the rear of the house to indicate our plans. I catch her nod just before I step outside into the late morning sun.
The metal chairs are starting to rust around the edges, but Lorna has kept the cushions in perfect condition over the years. I plop down in one of the chairs and wait for Wyatt to sit across from me.
“What did you find?”
Wyatt sighs. “Not a lot, to be honest. Still no signal on her phone. I did manage to get into her computer, though.” He leans forward. “Did she ever mention a game she liked to play called Blox World?”
I sit back and think. “Yes, she loved that game. She talked about it all the time, but she spoke about a lot of things she did online. I didn’t understand any of it.”
“Kids build worlds,” he persists, “talk to each other. Hang out. It’s a coder kid’s wet dream.”
My nose wrinkles. “Ew, gross. And besides, Hayden’s a girl. She has boobs, not wet dreams.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrow at the idea of his daughter having breasts. “Anyway,” he scowls, clearly not wanting to stay on that topic any longer. “It seems Hayden’s been playing it quite a bit, and talking to one user daily for a while. The last message said, from whomever it was, that they couldn’t wait for later. It was sent yesterday morning.”
Tears prick at my eyes. All along, I’d been telling everyone that someone had taken her, but Wyatt’s words have just confirmed it.
“Shelby, she was on that game at all hours of the day and night. Do you not monitor her online time?”
I gape at him. “Are you saying this is my fault?”
“No, I’m asking a fucking question.”
I press my hands to the arms of the chair, both to steady myself—as my world spins out of control—and to keep myself from lunging at this man for even insinuating I don’t take proper care of my daughter.
“Shelby is a straight A student. She does her chores, follows the rules, and never talks back. I trust her. Why would I monitor her online time? I don’t know a damn thing about the internet.”
His face softens. “And that’s exactly why she needs to be monitored. Online is the easiest place for a girl like her to fall victim to a predator.”
A sob wracks my entire body, and the tears I’d been fighting spill over. “What are we going to do?”
“We need a lawyer. We need the chat threads for Hayden’s account, all of them. We need to get a court order to get them from the game developer of Blox World.”
Hashtag
“This is the place.” Shelby pulls her car up to the curb of a large brick building near downtown. A large gold and black sign sits just outside of it with large letters reading Stratford and Goldman in block print. The sign alone screams expensive. It seems she’s got friends in high places.
“How did you get an appointment so fast?” I question. Unless she has an attorney on retainer, she shouldn’t have been able to book a same day appointment. The longer I think about it, the more I feel on edge. Shelby opens the door and slides out from behind the wheel without answering me.
“What the fuck?” I growl, reaching for the handle and bolting out of the passenger side, racing to catch up to her. Her heels click against the pavement as we approach the front of the building.
“Shelby!” I call out to her. Stopping, she spins around to face me. “I asked you a question back there, and you bolt out of the car like your hair's on fire. What’s going on?”
“The sooner we get in there, the closer we’ll be to getting Hayden back.” She chews on her bottom lip, just like she used to when she was nervous. We both want Hayden back—me more than anything—but there’s something else, lingering below the surface that she isn’t saying, and it’s bothering me. What am I about to walk in to?
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“It’s not important.”
“If you’re gnawing on your