#Seen

by Taylor Hart

  Her mother just turned away from her father and rolled her eyes. “You always act so angry when you’re hurting. Stop it!”

  Her father shook his head. “Look, I know it’s disappointing when boys cheat and when your friends have drama, but you have to take ownership in your life, Sammy.”

  Oh man, now she had to endure the ownership talk. Her father would make her watch videos on ownership and what it meant, even had this Navy SEAL video about this guy and all the ways he had to take ownership in war. It made no sense to her.

  “Stop, Hank,” her mother muttered, twisting her hair—a sure tell that her mother was stressed.

  “I won’t stop. Because things happen in life, and the way we react is all on us.”

  Sammy was shut down by now. Her father’s words ran over her like cold water, numbing her into oblivion.

  “And all you can do is chart your future and your course,” her father continued.

  She put her head down and tried not to listen as he berated her about how cheerleading was a waste of life.

  Didn’t he see?

  It was something she was good at, something she could be proud of.

  Not like math. She’d never been good at math.

  Her mother gathered her up in her arms. “We’re done for tonight, Hank.”

  Later, as Sammy lay on her side in her bed with streaks of tears running down her face, she took her phone off the little bedside table and pulled up Instagram. There were twenty DMs from that @hunterlives.

  She laughed out loud as she saw some of the memes he’d sent her.

  Cheer up, cheerleader. I get you.

  So she did something she probably shouldn’t have done—something that made her feel strong and rebellious, but not something her father would say anything about. He didn’t even know what a DM was.

  She friended the guy and responded with a meme of her own.

  Chapter 6

  Zoey

  Zoey rushed down the stairs to find that the captain was standing next to Nicholas. The sight brought butterflies into the lower pit of her gut.

  The captain pulled a toothpick out of his teeth. “I have in the file that you were a cheerleader in junior high before you started exclusively training for the Olympics. Do you think you could still cheer?”

  She frowned. She’d loved cheer, and giving it up had been a really hard decision. “Yes.”

  “Wait a sec, Cap.” Nicholas threw a hand into the air. “You need us to be cheerleaders?”

  The captain gave him a grin. “What? You don’t think you can do it?”

  Nicholas cursed. “I’m not doing a cheer team. No way.”

  Zoey pursed her lips, wondering how this would be their assignment. “I don’t understand.”

  The captain’s grin widened as he gestured down the hallway. “Follow me.”

  When they got to the conference room, they spotted a young girl’s face on the huge television screen on the wall. The captain sat down and pointed to the two chairs that flanked him. As Zoey and Nicholas took their seats, the captain picked up a clicker and began scrolling through photos. “How much is a girl’s destiny worth to you, Nicholas? Is it worth spending some time being a cheerleader?”

  A picture of the same girl flying into the air popped up on the screen.

  Excitement pulsed through Zoey. “We really get to pretend to be cheerleaders? And tumble and do all of that?”

  “‘The Tumbler,’” Nicholas said in a low voice, making air quotes.

  She folded her arms at him.

  The captain laughed. “Yes, she is.”

  Nicholas wagged his eyebrows at her obnoxiously. “It’s your superhero name, for sure. Hopefully, you don’t end up being the weak link.”

  Zoey’s lip curled.

  “Nicholas.” The captain frowned at him.

  Nicholas gave her a skeptical look. “We still don’t know if the new girl can hack it—that’s all I’m saying.”

  “I can hack it.” The challenge sent Zoey’s adrenaline pumping.

  Captain Jace pointed back at the screen. “Focus, you two. The girl is being targeted by a known online predator.”

  Nicholas cursed. “Is it the same hack that was targeting the last couple of girls in the area?” He cursed again.

  “Watch your language.” The captain flicked to another picture. “Ralph doesn’t think so, but he sent the profile to big data at the corporate office. Listen up. We’re not sure if you need to go in or not, but we have to be ready. And I have a plan to help this girl, and I think you two can pull it off.”

  The captain put on his glasses and pressed his pointer, flipping to another picture of the girl. “Sammy Lewis,” he said. “Sixteen. Just had major activity with a known predator who’s been trying to get the attention of kids in Denver. We think the predator operates in the western region. Out of Vegas, maybe.”

  Vegas. Zoey sucked in a breath as she remembered her ex-pimp.

  “Are you okay?” Cap asked her.

  Focus. She thought of all of the therapy and focus drills she’d done back at the farm. “Of course,” she lied. She had to be okay. She wanted to do this.

  Another picture appeared on the screen. This one was a snapshot of Sammy Lewis’s Instagram, with several pictures of cheering competitions and silly pictures with friends. “Monday, you two will be enrolling in Rosemont High School, five miles from here, as stepbrother and sister. You can tell everyone you’re a foster family.” The captain cleared his throat and handed each of them an iPad. “Here’s what we have on her complete profile.”

  Zoey took the iPad, grimacing. She didn’t like the idea of having a “partner” and pretending they were family.

  Nicholas didn’t seem fazed by this news. He scrolled through his iPad. “Simple enough. Become her friend and see how deep she’s in?”

  The captain sighed.

  “I thought I would be going in by myself and being undercover,” Zoey protested.

  “You can be, but for this project I think it makes sense to have some backup. You’ll be going in as transfers, and I’ll be going as your father on Monday to meet the principal. You,” the captain said, giving Zoey his attention, “will make friends with Sammy. If you’ll look at the details, a couple of people were recently kicked off of her cheerleading team for bullying.”

  “It looks like Sammy was kicked out of some sort of competition, according to some posts from Sammy’s ‘friends.’” Nicholas air quoted again.

  Zoey was getting tired of the air quotes already.

  The captain pointed to Nicholas. “She’s vulnerable. That’s probably why she started talking to the predator.”

  Nicholas scowled.

  Zoey looked up in confusion, meeting the captain’s gaze. “I don’t get it what we’re supposed to do exactly.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Nicholas retorted, still scrolling.

  The captain frowned at Nicholas. “Quit being an idiot and start being a supportive partner.”

  Nicholas still gave the captain an imploring look. “We just make friends with her, get close to her, and try to help her.”

  Zoey looked on as Nicholas and the captain waged a quiet war of wills.

  Finally, Nicholas turned to the iPad. “Fine. What do we have, then?”

  The captain tapped the screen. “@hunterlives, a known sex predator—one that we’ve been waiting to catch, one that has had lots of handles—has reached out to several students in the Denver area numerous times.”

  “So she is communicating with him?” Zoey asked, not seeing the info on her iPad.

  “Yes, according to Ralph, they just started communicating, but it looks like Sammy is vulnerable.” He clicked a couple of times, and Sammy’s Instagram pulled back up. HMU, only real friends care.

  “Oh man.” Zoey thought about her own experience with meeting someone online and getting ensnared in a trap. “Okay, maybe we just tell her, right?” She looked from the captain to Nicholas. “Just tell her what could happ
en and warn her.”

  The captain shook his head. “Zoey, remember that the whole purpose of this organization is to give freedom to the kids we’re trying to help. We don’t want to take away their freedom because we know they’re communicating with predators. When Cyrus and I got involved with…” He cleared his throat.

  “His daughter getting taken?” she asked quietly.

  His look turned severe. “Did Cyrus tell you that?”

  Her mouth went dry. “Yeah. Well, he told my parents that was the reason he started this whole thing, because he doesn’t know where his daughter is—if she’s still alive or not. And he wanted to help others.”

  The way the captain just stared at her made her stomach twist in knots. He didn’t speak for several moments.

  Nicholas cleared his throat. “I didn’t know that.”

  Zoey looked at him in surprise. Their eyes held, and again, she had that flutter of butterflies in her gut. “Sorry.”

  The captain rubbed his forehead. “We have a policy around here: ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell.’ And Cyrus usually adheres to it, too. He only gives information he needs to give.” He sighed. “He must have thought you could really make a difference if he shared that.”

  Zoey brushed aside her confusion, replacing it with purpose. “I’m hoping to.”

  “Okay, well,” the captain said, nodding. “So you know about Marcella.”

  Cyrus’s daughter’s name. Zoey felt something loosen inside of her. “Marcella,” she whispered. A name. She remembered how much she’d longed for someone to say her name for so long. They weren’t allowed to say their old names.

  “If you know about Marcella, then you can understand the secondary reason it’s important that nobody knows about our mission: because Cyrus is trying to string along the predators for as long as he can. His company can trace data. Granted, we’re learning every day about more and more ways and apps that evil people are creating to facilitate this trade, but there are definite cells we have to break into.”

  Nicholas nodded. “So each cell leads to another cell.”

  “Sometimes. And sometimes these trafficking cells are run by different illegal organizations—like terrorist organizations or drug cartels.” The captain exhaled. “So we’re all still looking for Marcella, but our priority is what is happening now. Today. With this case. Got it?”

  She wanted to ask a million more questions about Marcella, but she could tell it wasn’t the time.

  The captain gestured to them. “So you and Nicholas take some time this weekend and get completely comfortable with the backstory, and get ready to go in. We’re monitoring Sammy this weekend. And we need to be ready to act.”

  Her mind scrambled to process all of this. She saw a link to the name Zoey Pierson on her screen. “My undercover name is Zoey?”

  The captain stopped by the door.

  Nicholas was the one who answered. “He always makes our first name the same, because it’s so hard to remember too many lies.”

  The captain nodded. “Yes, ask Nicholas all of your hard questions. But remember, you’re ready for this. Your whole purpose is to get close to Sammy and become her friend. Get her to admit to you what’s happening and help her see that she needs to quit talking to the predator. Help her see the truth that you’ve come to see.” The captain disappeared around the corner.

  Nicholas looked up at Zoey and peered into her eyes. “Don’t you remember the first thing Cyrus said to you when he recruited you?”

  Emotion scraped the back of her throat, and she felt deep loyalty for Cyrus Black. For saving her. For recruiting her. For having faith that she could help others. She hedged, then nodded. “He told me the truth was that I was a child of God, and that I deserved to be free.”

  “I didn’t know if I believed the guy when he found me. But I have a dicey story.” Nicholas waved a hand through the air. “Anyway…”

  “Do you believe him now?” she asked.

  Nicholas let out a loud laugh. “Yes, I do.”

  She stared at the cross in his ear and wondered what his story was.

  “Do you believe in God?” Nicholas asked.

  A shiver ran through her and she folded her arms, not willing to make a formal statement or anything. “I don’t know.”

  He looked doubtful, and the edge of his lip turned up. “You really think you’re ready for this mission?”

  Irritation pulsed through her. She couldn’t tell if this guy liked her or not. “Why are you laughing?”

  He walked past her, pausing at the doorway. “Because most of us who have been taken and got out—” He broke off to collect himself, and when he spoke again, his expression had sobered. “—know the only thing that’s real is God.”

  Chapter 7

  Sammy

  Sammy sat at a table by herself at lunch. A headache hammered behind her right eye.

  “I think the whole cheer squad hates her now or something.” A girl from her chemistry class walked past, her voice not quite soft enough as she spoke to her friend.

  The boy she was talking to said, “It’s sad how popularity can ruin you so quickly.”

  Sammy put her head down, focusing on the food she knew she wouldn’t eat. Everyone had turned on her.

  She heard loud laughing from the cheerleader/football table, and she turned to stare at them. Kira’s eyes met hers before dropping quickly. When she’d gone over to the table earlier with her tray, Kira had actually scooted over, making space. Tiffany had quickly said, “There’s no room for you. Go away.”

  Karl was sitting down right next to Tiffany. Sammy couldn’t look at him.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Whenever she was upset before a performance, her mother always told her, “You can’t cry until after the performance, because you don’t want to ruin your makeup.” She and Kira and Tiffany had always used it as a joke, telling each other those words when they were having a bad day to make each other smile. Now, thinking of that only made her want to cry harder.

  How would she get through this? How would she ever recover from losing her friends and the boy she thought she loved? Why had he even asked her to prom if he was just cheating?

  Her mother had tried to cheer her up this morning. She’d made pancakes, which she only did on a holiday or a Saturday. “Honey, can we talk?” her mom had asked her when she’d gone into the kitchen.

  “I’m in a hurry.”

  Her father had been waiting in the kitchen, too. “Sweetheart, I want to apologize for last night,” he’d said, holding his cup of coffee and looking remorseful as he closed the distance between them.

  “Sweetie,” her mother had said expectantly.

  “It’s fine.” She glanced at her father. It wasn’t fine, but she didn’t want another “talk.”

  Her father hesitated, giving her mother a look that said he’d tried. “And I’m sorry about Karl and your friends. That would be rough.” Carefully, he put his hand on hers. “I do love you, Sammy, and I know that sometimes when it’s bleakest, all we have to do is wait a second and the sun will rise.”

  No. She wasn’t going to endure another so-called pep talk. “I have to go.” She’d pulled away.

  “Sweetie.” Her mother’s arms had wrapped around her.

  But she hadn’t allowed herself to feel them. She’d gone to school.

  “Hey.”

  Sammy looked up, surprised anyone was talking to her.

  Megan, from the cheer squad, approached her, Liz trailing behind.

  Megan paused. “Do you want to come sit by us?”

  She looked past Megan and saw all the “puppy chow girls” sitting together, cheer team and non–cheer team alike. “Umm.”

  Liz bumped Megan’s shoulder. “Seriously,” she said to Megan. “I told you she wasn’t worth it. Why are you even trying to be nice to her?”

  Megan still stared at her. “C’mon.”

  Sammy had seen a group cheer text come across her phone this morning from Ms. Montlake, congratulati
ng Megan on cheer competition captain. Jealousy burned through her. “No, that’s okay,” she said stubbornly, staring down at her food. “You don’t have to be nice to me because you won cheer captain.”

  Liz started laughing hysterically. “Oh my gosh, Megan, I told you she’s just…horrible.” She walked away.

  Megan got right in Sammy’s face, making her jump. “Listen, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt—that maybe you weren’t one of the mean girls, that you’d just simply been too weak to stand up and do the right thing—but now I see you think that kindness is making yourself a doormat.” She shook her head. “It’s sad.”

  Sammy watched her walk away, feeling like a complete jerk. Megan was nice. She had always been nice. She blinked. Makeup, she reminded herself.

  Her phone buzzed with a DM from @hunterlives. She stared at her phone, finding that it soothed her pain to have at least one person in the world who really cared about her.

  How’s it going, beautiful?

  Hope surged inside of her. At least someone cared about her and thought she was beautiful. She DMed him back, thankful for a friend today of all days. Not so good.

  Do you want to talk?

  Her heart rate picked up a notch at the prospect of talking to him. But she didn’t even know him. She felt a twinge of unease, and she thought back to when she’d been at the mall late one night and it felt like someone was following her.

  I can’t.

  No worries. Not a problem. Tell me what’s going on.

  She looked around. The whole world was just going on without her. Nobody in the entire school cared about what she was going through.

  She hunched over her phone, holding the tears back.

  I have no friends. It felt pathetic to admit this, but it was also a relief.

  Not true. You got me.

  She let out a light laugh and scrolled through his rock climbing pictures. Dang, the guy was buff. She hovered over a picture of him skydiving, and she leaned in for a better look. It was funny how different he looked flying through the air than he did in all the other pictures.