1. Mika

MIKA

Three days. Three freaking days I"ve been living off beef jerky, stolen peaches (sorry, not sorry, Mr. Orchard Guy), and the lingering hope that one day I"ll find a decent cup of coffee in the middle of this godforsaken wilderness.

Don"t get me wrong, Montana is beautiful. All majestic mountains and forests that go on forever. It"s like stepping into a postcard, except this postcard has a serious mosquito problem and a distinct lack of Wi-Fi.

But hey, at least it"s quiet. Well, except for the rustling leaves, the chirping crickets that sound suspiciously like tiny laughing demons after midnight, and the occasional twig snapping under my very own hiking boots.

Speaking of boots, mine are killing me. Seriously, who needs a cute pedicure when you can have blisters the size of silver dollars instead? It"s all part of the glamorous life I lead these days.

I adjust the backpack straps, trying to convince myself that the weight is building character. Or at least upper body strength. A girl"s gotta look on the bright side, right?

The sun is setting, turning the sky into a fiery mess of orange and pink. It"s actually quite pretty, in a "nature is trying to distract me from the fact that I have no idea where I"m going" kind of way.

I find a clearing and decide to call it a night. Setting up camp is a generous term for what I manage to do. It involves unrolling a sleeping bag I"m pretty sure I bought at a garage sale five years ago and propping myself up against a tree that looks sturdy enough not to crush me in my sleep.

I dig through my backpack, searching for the one luxury item I refuse to live without: my travel-sized can of hairspray. A girl"s gotta have standards, even in the wilderness.

Except, when I pull it out, it"s not alone. There"s a small white envelope tucked beside it.

My heart stutters to a stop.

No. No way.

I snatch the envelope, my fingers trembling as I rip it open. Inside, a single sheet of paper with a message scrawled in his jagged handwriting:

*You can run, but you can"t hide. I"ll always find you.*

A wave of dizziness washes over me. I press my back against the tree, my breath catching in my throat. He knew I was planning on running? Why won't he just leave me alone?