They Showed Up Panicked, Not Ashamed
I opened the door and saw my mother and sister standing there like they’d run out of time.
My mother’s hair was perfect, but her eyes were frantic.
My sister’s phone was already in her hand—refreshing, scrolling, watching her image collapse in real time.
My mother didn’t ask about Grandma.
She didn’t ask how I was doing the morning after my wedding.
She went straight to the only thing she cared about:
“Olivia, you need to fix this.”
Catherine jumped in, voice shaking with rage.
“Do you know what this is doing to me? Brands are messaging. People are commenting. Someone found my page.”
I blinked slowly.
