Uncle Albert and Aunt Naomi exchanged a look. Their expressions shifted into something strange—guarded. Neither said a word.
I pulled out a piece of paper, folded with care, and looked at my mother's face—gray and hollow in the dim light.
"You coaxed me into taking your 'vitamins' for eighteen years. You thought I'd never find out."
"And I didn't. Because I was stupid. Stupid enough to believe that if I just did everything you said, you'd finally be satisfied. You'd finally love me."
Uncle Albert scrolled through his phone, irritated. "What story is she spinning now? The comments all say she's a pathological liar—"
I ignored him and unfolded the paper.
The camera pushed in close.
Silence.
Total, suffocating silence.
Even the stray dogs outside stopped barking.
Rachel's microphone slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground.
The livestream froze. Three full seconds passed without a single comment.
