Through the flames *MMG REVISION-COMPLETED✔️*

Chapter Twenty-four: Juice Box Makes a Point

Noah ran to greet his friends, pulling them inside so fast I don't even know if they saw him coming.

"Why the hell are you here?" Noah hissed, marching them by the arms into the living room where we sat waiting. "Do you know how risky it is coming here like this?"

"We're sorry," Quinn blurted, "but Jonas and I were talking and - and we thought you should see something."

"Why didn't you just email me?"

"Because then we thought of something else," Jonas added before glancing at Rachel. He smiled and she smiled back before he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Can you get your friend on a facetime call?"

"CJ?" Rachel asked with a frown, pulling out her phone.

Jonas nodded and dropped into a seat with a sigh. While Rachel waited for CJ to pick up, Quinn started to babble again.

"We were at the library and overheard some kids from school in the next aisle. They were sounded really excited and kept talking about Hanna. They kept repeating over and over again how you were missing. Like, missing - missing." He pulled out his phone and showed us his Instagram page.

My eyes widened as post after post with my smiling face on it swiped by, all captioned with: #Findhannagreen.

Noah jumped and grabbed the phone, holding it inches from his nose. "What?" He snapped. "That doesn't make any sense. We're not even back at school!"

"We thought at first her mom posted something, but her page is blank."

"Hanna!" Rachel suddenly gasped, holding her own phone. "Everyone is sending me messages!" I jumped over the chair and looked over her shoulder. DM after DM all from kids at school. From what I could see, they were all asking about me.

"The hell do they want with me?" I murmured, taking her phone and scrolling down the homepage.

Hell, even Gordon Marcus Grae Bryan Simmons the Sixth and Emily Margret Josephine Harrison posted about me, both of them sending their regards and pleading with anyone to contact them if I am spotted around town.

Holy crap, I was trending!

I suddenly hesitated and scrolled back to Gordon's post, rereading the caption carefully. "Why is Gordon Marcus Grae telling people to contact him?" I quickly found another kid's post and saw a similar pattern. Everyone that posted about me specifically asked for any information to be sent straight to them.

I explained this to the table and they all shared matching looks of puzzlement. Quinn and Jonas, however, just nodded knowingly.

"That's what we were talking about," Quinn said, "we think..." he hesitated and caught my eye. His usually pale face looked drained of all blood. "We think - we think your father is paying kids at school to find you."

The world around me rocked. I sat down hard and Rachel grabbed my shoulder.

My ears rang, my palms turned clammy. Quinn's words ran circles in my head. Hunted. I was being hunted, not only by my father but by the kids I had grown up with. Sure, I was an outcast and didn't try to make friends but - I didn't think they hated me.

My friends were talking, their voices droning around me frantically, but I could no longer hear them.

***

I lay curled on Rachel's bed, hugging a pillow to my chest. Just fifteen minutes ago, I was digesting the realization that students from my school were being paid to find me.