Page 4 of By the Time You Read This

Isabel was dead.

And someone was watching Delaney.

Possibly.

Perhaps it was someone who felt the way Raisa and Isabel did, that Delaney was to blame for a loved one’s death. Perhaps the person had a monster to feed, one created by grief, one that wouldn’t be satiated with just Isabel’s passing. It would want to feast on Delaney’s bones as well, because creatures like that, ones born of sorrow, were never satisfied.

Maybe she was being paranoid right now.

Or maybe she was right and someone was about to kick through her door.

Maybewas enough for her.

She shoved aside stacks of journals and scrap paper until she found an empty thumb drive. She jammed it into the port on her computer and then transferred everything over to the little device. While that loaded, she crossed the studio to her closet and pulled down a bag she kept ready and waiting on the top shelf.

The one nice thing about poking around on the dark web since she’d been fifteen was that she knew exactly how to get everything she needed in order to disappear in under twenty-four hours.

The lurking habit had begun as a way to search for Isabel, and in the process, Delaney had learned more than any teenager should. She’d learned the language used by predators, the way they signaled their interest to other participants in any given forum, the breadcrumbs they left to other, even darker sites. Delaney had started tipping off the police whenever she came across something that could lead to an arrest.

When she’d needed a full-time job to fund her search for Isabel, it had been an easy transition to become a moderator for one of the video-based social media sites. Anything she hadn’t learned as an amateur lurker had been filled in by watching thousands of videos a day that were flagged for inappropriate content.

It probably hadn’t done anything good for her mental health, but it would help her now.

She had three different passports, two social security cards and driver’s licenses, a stash of burner phones, and enough prepaid credit cards to last her a year on the run.

The computer dinged, but she ignored it for now. Instead, she went to the bathroom and grabbed the kit that would allow her to cut and dye her hair if needed. She wasn’t even sure yet if leaving was necessary, but the best way to be successful in a crisis was to be prepared.

With everything packed, Delaney paid three months’ worth of rent to her landlord—she didn’t want to get rid of this place as an option yet—and then wiped her computer.

Even the best hacker wouldn’t be able to get anything off it, and she didn’t think any law enforcement outside of the CIA employed the best hackers anyway.

She kept her phone on her for now. She wanted anyone tracking it to think she was leaving Seattle.

Delaney made a few calls on her walk to the ferry station downtown so there would be a used clunker of a car waiting for her in Bainbridge.

The terminal was busy when she arrived right alongside the morning commuters. She’d made the trip a few times in preparationshould she ever need to leave in a hurry, so she easily navigated her way into the right line. The next boat would leave in twenty minutes.

Delaney hadn’t felt the eyes on her since a few blocks away from her apartment. That might be because she’d taken a route designed to shake a tail, or it might be because she’d fully descended into paranoia.

Maybe Isabel’s death had sent her reeling far more than she’d realized.

She wiggled at the knowledge that her sister was dead as someone would the gaping hole left behind by a missing tooth. She found pain and a weird sort of pleasure.

Delaney had never been good at untangling complex emotions, and hers toward Isabel were as complex as they could be.

There was love and devotion and guilt and hatred. Isabel had always equaled protection for her—but then Delaney had realized Isabel had probably exaggerated all those dangers in their childhood. Their brother, Alex, had been a predator, but Isabel had made it seem like he would kill them and baby Larissa at the drop of a hat.

She’d fostered a dependence on herself through scare tactics, and even with distance and maturity, Delaney stillfeltlike Isabel was her guardian angel.

“Miss, can you spare any change?”

Delaney looked up to find a man standing over her. She’d seen him with two others hanging out in the doorway of the furniture store across the street. None of them had looked her way when she’d passed. Delaney stood and dug in her purse for a twenty.

He stepped closer to take it. “Thank you.”

Delaney nodded, watching him as he went to talk to another passenger, who shook his head and looked away. Delaney kept watching the man, but once he’d stopped by each person in the terminal, he left. Her shoulders relaxed.

A soothing digital voice came over the speakers, informing those waiting that they could board. Delaney clocked everyone else nearby, letting them go first. Then she stood up at the last minute so she would be able to tell if anyone got on right behind her.

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