Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

“Her phone’s been ringing downstairs,” he told me,
approaching my side. “Would you like me to give it her or…?”
I glanced to where he held it out for me, amused at his coy
attempt to give me her phone but still remain innocent in the
matter.
I took it.
He left, and I turned it on, seeing it was armed with a
pattern passcode. I couldn’t get into it, but there were several
notifications visible just on her lock screen.
Mostly from Rika.
An article in the town paper about Winter’s performance
last night.
Talk on social media and some videos. Lots of shares and
comments as the video spread outside of our town.
I squeezed the phone. She didn’t think she was getting out
of here, did she?
And then I expanded a text from Rika. It was a screenshot
of a Twitter comment on the video of Winter dancing:
This girl should be everywhere! Why isn’t she
touring?
Rika texted below the image:
What she said! Need some sponsors? I might
know a few. Let’s talk.
I gritted my teeth together, barking at the dog. “Kom-yen
ya!”
He scurried to my side as I left the room, and I carried the
phone downstairs and dropped it on the foyer table. I whipped
open the front door, charging out of the house.