“My sister arrived trembling, br.uised, and begging me, ‘Don’t tell Dad anything.’ What she confessed about the woman living in her house chilled me to the bone. We looked so alike… that night I understood I could use my face to unmask the horror.”

I felt something shatter inside me for my sister, realizing she had faced this abandonment every single time she tried to cry for help. Francine moved toward him, wrapping her arms around him and whispering about how much she tried to love us.

“I’ve tried to be a mother to her, but she hates me and threatens me constantly,” Francine lied. My father rubbed his temples, sighing as if the burden of our existence was too much for him to bear.

Suddenly, Francine’s phone chimed loudly on the counter, showing a text from a neighbor asking if everything was okay because they heard screaming. She grabbed the phone quickly, but I had already seen the message and knew the neighbors were tired of her secrets too.

The twist wasn’t just about catching her in the act; it was the realization that my father had ignored the signs for far too long. I took a deep breath and looked up at them, feeling the weight of the recorder in my pocket.

“I am not Geneve,” I said, my voice cutting through Francine’s fake sobbing.