God, that wasn’t very descriptive. A dark haired, seventeen-year-old girl described a lot of people. Probably half their school. She knew that anything extra she could add would be helpful. “Um...she wears glasses, has a few freckles on her face. She doesn’t wear very much makeup. Just sometimes a little mascara and lip gloss. Always wears her hair down.”

“I don’t know any Lauren like that at our school,” Becca said.

“Well, surely, you’ve seen Amelia with her.”

“No, I’m sorry. I haven’t.”

“Do you not see Amelia at school anymore? I mean...I know you don’t hang out as much, but surely you see each other.”

“Oh, yeah. I see her. I just haven’t seen her with anyone like that.”

“Don’t you still follow her on Instagram and Snapchat?”

She hesitated a second before answering, and when she did it sounded like a question. “Yes?”

Whitney was most familiar with Facebook, but recently she’d been learning more about Instagram marketing for the business. She’d upped her postings for Nat’s Fancy Finds account, and consequently, she’d seen the photos Amelia had been sharing lately. Most of them had been with Lauren.

“Then you’ve seen the pictures of her with Lauren, right?” Switching Becca to speakerphone, Whitney went into her Instagram app and searched for Amelia’s account.

“I mean, I guess I’ve seen the pictures of her and some friend, but I didn’t know who she was.” There was a hint of bitterness and maybe jealousy in Becca’s tone.

Amelia’s page appeared, her pictures populating the screen. When they all finished loading, Whitney gasped. Every photo Amelia had posted with Lauren was gone. The last picture was of a smoothie Whitney had bought Amelia over two months ago.

“Becca, can you go into Amelia’s Instagram account?”

“Sure. I can’t get into her Finsta account, though.”

“Her what?”

“Her Finsta,” she repeated. “Um...her fake Insta. It’s like where we post stuff we don’t want like...our parents and stuff to see. Anyway, she blocked me from it.”

Heat snaked up Whitney’s spine as she stared down at Amelia’s profile picture. “What kind of stuff do you guys post on these accounts?”

“I don’t know. Just like random stuff.”

“Random stuff you don’t want your parents to see?”

“Uh...yeah.”

“What’s Amelia’s other account called?”

“Um...I think it’s her full name with her middle initial.”

Whitney typed out Amelia L. Carter, and sure enough, there she was. Her daughter. She couldn’t see anything beyond her profile picture because Becca was right, the account was private. But knowing it existed gave her a bitter taste in her mouth. She swallowed hard.

“Oh, my God,” Becca said. “Her last, like, two months of photos are missing.”

“So, you’re not seeing them either, huh?” Whitney sighed.