“You crazy bitch,” Harris muttered.

He looked around the floor of the pantry, searching for anything he could use.

My eyes flicked back to the phone screen in my hand.

The signal indicator in the top corner showed only one bar.

But it was enough.

A new comment popped up at the very top of the feed, highlighted in yellow.

“I just spoke to the dispatch office,” wrote a user named *KitchenQueen*. “I told them Clara is in danger. They said they already had two calls about the same address.”

My thumb swiped down to refresh the page.

“They are sending a real deputy,” the comment continued. “Not the local contract guy. An actual county unit is on the way.”

Harris saw the look on my face.

“What is she looking at?” Harris demanded, grabbing Julian by his jacket. “Julian, what is on that phone?”

Julian was still cradling his arm, his face twisted in pain.

“She has an audience,” Julian spat out. “She’s a blogger, Harris. I told you she has those stupid followers.”

“So what?” Harris said. “They don’t know where we are.”