Page 103 of The Banned Books Club

She wouldn’t have thought anything about it. The pictures she’d posted were gorgeous, meant to entice more bookings. This person could simply be showing some love for the beauty of Mother Nature. But something about it was familiar; the same person had put a heart on all her recent posts.

“Gia?”

She drew her attention back to their conversation. “What?”

“Did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just... Give me a minute.” She scrolled back through the last several posts and searched the comments. Sure enough, M. Lane was putting a heart on everything. And on the most recent post? He or she had gone a bit further and written:I’m so excited! I think I just got a job!

Why would a stranger want to tell her that?

And then it occurred to her. When they used to play together as children, Margot’s doll was always named Margaret Love, which morphed into Margaret Lane after she sawSuperman.

M. Lane. Margaret Lane. That had to be Margot.

“Cormac, can I call you back?” she asked.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” she replied. “It’ll just be a minute.”

She disconnected so she could concentrate on what she was doing as she navigated to Messages. She had to “like” M. Lane’s account in order to be able to DM her, but she was accepted almost immediately.

If this is who I think it is, be careful. The evil empire has a private investigator, and I’m sure he’ll be watching my pages if he’s not already.

She didn’t get an immediate response. Just when she was starting to wonder if she’d made a mistake, and M. Lane was Mason Lane or something like that, an answer appeared—simply another heart.

It was Margot. It had to be.

Gia called Cormac back right away.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I think Margot’s been following the Instagram account for Backcountry Adventures.”

“What makes you think so?”

“She’s commented quite a bit lately under a name she used when we were children. Only I would recognize it.”

“She must be okay, then.”

“Must be. Sounds like she just found a job.”

“You’ll have to tell your mother.”

Ida was under too much strain. Gia was afraid she’d break down and tell the wrong person—a cop or a friend of Sheldon’s or his family—in some misguided attempt to justify Margot’s actions. “Not yet.”

“Why not? She’s worried.”

“Because I don’t want her saying anything to someone she thinks she can trust—but who ultimately tells the wrong person. No one else is going to fix this for us.”

“What does that mean?”

Gia set her laptop aside and slid down in the bed, so she was staring at the ceiling. “It means thatI’mgoing to have to be the one.”

“To...” he prompted, sounding concerned.

“Put a stop to it.”

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