Brett called from every number imaginable. I blocked them all. He emailed from new addresses. Margaret responded once, officially, directing all communication through counsel and noting that further harassment would support additional claims. He stopped.
Tiffany went nuclear online for three days. Vague posts about narcissistic family members. Pictures of sunsets captioned with cryptic references to betrayal. Long strings of quotes about jealous women destroying happy couples. Then someone sent her my email attachments. After that, her accounts went quiet.
My parents tried a different tactic. They framed me as unstable. Overreacting. Confused. Hurt by wedding stress. My mother told one aunt I had always been “sensitive” and that Tiffany’s pregnancy had triggered “some old sibling rivalry.” That version lasted exactly forty-eight hours until screenshots from the group chat began circulating among relatives like a church bulletin from hell.