Soft. Tired.
“If you’re hearing this… I ran out of time.”
I had to sit down.
She explained everything.
How she had found a profile using her name.
How she opened it and saw conversations she had never written.
How she confronted my mother… and got denied.
How she started saving proof because she knew I wouldn’t believe her without it.
Then she said something I’ll never forget.
“She doesn’t want to lose you. She wants to replace me.”
That’s when everything fell into place.
Every argument.
Every doubt.
Every time I chose to believe what I saw instead of who I knew.
I remembered her crying.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Just… desperate.
And I still chose not to trust her.
I called my mother.
I didn’t plan what to say.
“What did you do?” was all I managed.
Silence.
Then, calm as if we were discussing something ordinary:
“You weren’t supposed to find that.”
No denial.
No shock.
