INSTALOVE

Chapter 46: The Real Me

Chapter 46: The Real Me

M A D D O X

"No one's going anywhere until this storm passes."

Dr. Carlyle presses his lips into a stern line. I stare back at him, dumbfounded. Does he not see the SOS sign on the surveillance feed? Ellie is in danger. We might already be too late!

I stand up from Ellie's desk chair and turn toward the program director. "But we—we have to—we can't just—just—"

I break off, following his movements with my eyes. Dr. Carlyle draws a cell phone from his pocket.

"Call security at least," I tell him. "Call someone!"

He nods once. Then he clamps the phone to his ear and turns away. "There's nothing more we can do, Maddox. I'm calling 911."

OK. I force myself to take a deep breath. 911... OK. I'd rather go up there after Ellie myself, but at least that's something.

I strain to hear Dr. Carlyle's side the conversation. He has his hand cupped over his mouth as he murmurs information into the phone. I can't make out much, though. Other sounds drown out his voice. Ellie's dorm room window rattles in its frame as the full fury of the thunderstorm passes overhead. Outside the window, the trees sway violently, with a few loose branches flying free in the gusting wind. The thought of anyone at The Overlook in this weather makes me stomach churn.

"They can't be up there," I whisper to myself. They must have taken cover as the storm blew in. Right? Ellie's far too timid to venture out on that clifftop in a storm. She has enough sense of self-preservation to get herself to safety. But Reese... who knows what her state of mind might be.

A ribbon of lightning crackles through the sky, followed by a thunderclap loud enough to make me jump.

Ellie's laptop still stands open on her desk. Dr. Carlyle has his eyes glued to it as he talks. I watch the live feeds over his shoulder. "There!" I cry, pointing toward a flash of movement in one corner of the screen.

Dr. Carlyle clicks to maximize the window, but my heart sinks again as the image expands. Three figures clamber up the stone steps of the library and take shelter inside the large glass doors. Their faces come into view as they turn toward the camera.

Miranda, Samantha, and Ms. Cleary.

Not the three faces I was seeking—and nor was Dr. Carlyle. For a moment, he removes his glasses and wipes away the gathering fog on the lapel of his tweed jacket. Then he minimizes the window once again. "No. False alarm. Not them." His muffled voice drones on into his phone. "...still two students unaccounted for... Yes, that's right. And one adult who may with them..."

One adult.

Emerson.

The clenched feeling in my chest relaxes slightly at the thought. He took off at a run into the pelting rain. I can only pray he reached the girls before the storm kicked up. He must have gone to find them. That InstaQuest I saw on his phone before he left—it must have come from Reese. A distress signal, like the SOS scrawled in mud.

But why wouldn't Emerson tell us? It would only have taken him a moment to show Dr. Carlyle the message he'd received. Why would he take off like that, without a word?

I close my eyes and try to remember the fleeting instants before he ditched us. I remember how his jaw went slack as his eyes flashed to his phone. And then he muttered softly. "What the..."

He paused for a beat before the next word left his throat. His face went white as a sheet, and I had to read his lips to make out what he said.

What the... hell?