I look at the camera, wondering what my viewers think is going on, then close my eyes and breathe, trying to figure out what to do.

Has he been this close all along? Is he the Magpie Man or just another Michael?

“Please sit down, Jessica,” Mr. Collins says at last, but his voice sounds different.

He’s too calm, too quiet. He knows he’s been caught, and he isn’t running. But that doesn’t mean I won’t.

“Come on,” I say to Danny, and he follows me out of the classroom while Mr. Collins watches in silence.

“What’s going on?” Danny asks.

I stare into the camera. “It’s him.”

I’m not telling my director. I’m telling everyone. He tried to put another article in my bag, and I don’t know what that means, but it means something.

I don’t have long.

“Jess?” Danny says.

It feels like a question I can’t answer, a word that’s suddenly too heavy to fit in my head.

“It’s him,” I say again, the panic rising in my chest, and Danny lowers the camera so it’s facing the floor.

“Don’t,” I whisper, because I need him to film this. It could be my only chance.

He lifts the camera, and I look into the blinking red light, count down from five in my head, then say, “Action.”

Chapter 121

“Where are we going?” Danny asks, not caring that his voice is going out live.

He looks worried, but he should be glad. He used to moan at me for doing this on my own, for not filming the important parts. Now we’re a team, and he’s still complaining.

“His office,” I say, running ahead and not caring how blurry this looks.

I don’t have time to explain everything to my subscribers or my director. English lasts an hour. Then Mr. Collins is free. I don’t know if he’ll run or try to find me, and I’m not sure what’s worse.

I stop at the bottom of the steps that lead to the teachers’ lounge and the teachers’ offices. If we get caught, they won’t believe me. But what choice do I have?

As I walk upstairs, Danny touches my shoulder and says, “Jess. This isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s the only idea. He put the clippings in my bag. He saved them all these years, and he’s been taunting me. Who does that?”

Danny stares at me with his mouth open, and I imagine the sound of thousands of gasps as my viewers catch up.

“Be careful,” he says. “You know what happened—”

“This is different,” I say, cutting him off before he mentions Michael.

He looks shocked but doesn’t say anything else, just follows me upstairs and focuses the camera as I look around the corner, checking that the coast is clear.