Free Girl Online: On Tour by Zoe Sugg

Wiki’s tips on how to combat anxiety. Ocean Strong is going to be on board! I’m also taking my mum’s favourite cardie with me to wrap up in.
    I’ll keep you up to date on everything that happens!
    GO xx
    I’m just about to log off when an email pops up on my screen. I wonder if it’s a notification saying Pegasus Girl has replied super quickly. I hate leaving an email unanswered, so I open it . . . but the email address isn’t one that I recognize.
    From: TheRealTruth
    To: Penny Porter
    Subject: Enjoy it while it lasts . . .
    ATTACHMENT: image_1051.jpg
    The email itself is blank, but I can see a small thumbnail of the image and immediately my stomach turns in on itself. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I double-click on the attachment and up pops a photograph of Noah and me.
    My mind begins to race. Is this a paparazzi shot? Or one of Noah’s crazy fans?
    But then I realize it’s the selfie that I took earlier in the car.
    The one on my phone.

Chapter Twelve
    My heart beats faster inside my chest and my pulse quickens, but I take a big, deep breath. I am not going to let some phone thief bully me into panicking about this. I know exactly who I can turn to in this situation. I gather my laptop in my arms and run down the flight of stairs that lead from my cosy attic room and knock frantically on Tom’s door.
    “Yeah?” I’m surprised he can hear me knock over the thrumming bass of his favourite dubstep music, but he’s very attuned to any disturbance of his privacy.
    “It’s me.” I push open the door and see my brother at his computer. He spends so much of his time there that I’m surprised there isn’t a permanent indent in his desk chair.
    “Everything OK, Pen-pen?” He takes off his head-phones.
    I bring my laptop over to him and show him the picture. “This was taken from my phone—the one that was stolen at the concert. Look at the subject line. I think someone wants to use it against me?”
    Tom’s body language shifts from relaxed to tense, like he’s gearing up for a fight. “OK, first of all, have you called your provider? They can shut down the phone remotely.”
    I nod. “Yeah, I did that about ten minutes after I lost it. But I haven’t done anything else . . . I guess I was still holding out hope that someone would find it and hand it in.”
    He grabs his phone and starts dialling a number. “Right, well, at least that’s something. Is there anything that’s really compromising on your phone? If they’ve got this photograph, they might have downloaded others from your phone already, or got your contacts list. Didn’t you have a password?”
    “I had a password but . . . it was Noah’s birthday.” I cringe at how obvious that sounds, now that I say it out loud. “If someone had recognized it was my phone, that wouldn’t be too hard to guess. There are a few texts, and most of my conversations with Noah are on WhatsApp.”
    “Let’s go through and change all your passwords—we can do that remotely, and set it so that your phone wipes if it’s connected to the Internet. Then you’d better let Noah know that someone might have got hold of his number.”
    The thought of that makes me feel anxious all over again, but Tom reminds me that it’s just a phone number, and not passport details or a full-blown medical history. “Pen-pen, it was an accident. Noah will understand. He cares more about you than a stupid mobile number.”
    After an hour sitting on the edge of Tom’s bed, I’ve managed to shut down the phone, wipe it clean, and change all my passwords. I feel so much better knowing that I’ve done as much as possible, and that there’s nothing more TheRealTruth—whoever they are—can do to hurt me. Idon’t want to be a victim anymore to people who think they can abuse my privacy and my emotions. I remind myself that they don’t know anything about me and Noah, and how solid our relationship is after everything we’ve been through. I’m