Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Melissa’s mouth was open. She was half gaping. “What…”
“Hacking. Or unhacking. I need her to unhack something.”
Oh, crap.
Melissa’s phone buzzed, and she read the text. A small and slight giggle left her before she bit down on her lip, looking at us. “You know what? This is perfect timing. I, uh, have something.” She grabbed her books, put her laptop in her bag, and was ready to go in a flash. “I’ll see you all later, then?”
Her bag was swung up on her back.
We watched as she pulled her other arm through the strap before Hoda turned back to me. She was being all fierce-like. “Our deal. I know you had a setback after you hacked Camille—and by the way, she has no idea. I’m living with Liam, but I talked to her yesterday. She didn’t say a word, and I know her—she would’ve been blowing my phone up if she ever figured it out.” She slid her fists over the table toward me and uncurled them, her thumbs sticking up. “So two thumbs up for that feat. But back to me. You said you’d pull your program from my stuff.” She was all business and no nonsense. “I want to watch you do it.”
She was right. I’d had a setback, but it hadn’t lasted too long.
Grief was a cycling tornado. It hit, and it hit hard. It left a trail to recuperate afterward. You recuperated, and then it swung back again for destruction.
Hoda cleared her throat, staring at me pointedly.
Right.
She was here. She said something. Brain, go back, and what did she say?
“I want to watch you do it.”
Got it.
“Now? Are you sure?”
Her eyebrows arched up. “You can do it now? On your laptop?”
I nodded. “I have it set up to do it anywhere.”
She groaned, closing her eyes. She lowered her head, folded her arms, and laid her forehead over her arms. “Why me?” She lifted her head and her eyes opened. “I had it all worked up in my head. You could break into accounts but you had to do it in a certain room, with a certain computer, and there were all these precautions you had to take. You had to at least work for it. Nope.” She snapped her fingers, leaning back in her chair, her shoulders slumping. “You can do it here. Now. Just like that. With your freaking laptop, that you can take anywhere. Of course. Of course!” She looked upward. “Why couldn’t I have been the genius in our program?”
I sighed. “Are we really back to this? This was so first semester.”
“Of course.” Her hand flew up, gesturing to me. “You’re funnier, too. Agh!”
I waited.
I waited another beat.
She remained quiet, so I asked, “Want me to do it now or what?”
“Yes,” she bit out, shoving back her chair. She stalked around the table and stood over my shoulder, her arms crossed over her chest. I glanced up. She had an annoyed scowl on her face.
Well. She was about to get even more annoyed.
I opened up my program.
Click.
Another click.
I typed in my password, which I know she saw, but I would change it the second she left.
Then I went to her file, pulled up her social media accounts.
She growled under her breath.
Twitter.
It opened right away. I saw everything, had total access to it. And I clicked out of it, dragged it to the garbage.
I did the same thing with her Instagram.
Her Facebook.
Tumblr.
She had three fan-fiction accounts.
All of them.
Six emails.
A video blogger account.
She had a Pinterest account.
Every one was opened, closed out, and I dragged the entire program into the garbage.
She remained there, letting out more disgruntled grunts, growls, curses, until I had emptied the entire folder. Once that was done, I took her entire folder (even though it was empty) and that went into the garbage, too.
The garbage was emptied.
Then I went to my hard drive, and since she knew the coding, she saw me wipe the backups.
After that, I went back into my program, pulled up her name, and wiped that, too.
I waited, letting her digest everything once it was done.
“How do I know you won’t get in again?”
I looked up at her. “Go and change all of your passwords. Other than that, you’ll just have to trust me.”
She was visibly upset, and I got it. I did. But I didn’t feel bad, not after how she had threatened me last semester, and how she treated me. Kash’s conversation from Camille’s office came back to me, and he was right.
Anything. That was my line for what I would do to protect those I loved.
“Fine.” She stormed back to the other side of the table, grabbed her backpack, and hoisted it on. Just before she left, she placed a hand on the table. “I will report you if you ever do anything like that again.”