“You asked him about that?” I said.
“Yes.”
“What did he tell you?”
Her voice dropped.
“He told me not to contact you. He said he’d handle you.”
I sat perfectly still.
“And you continued selling my clothes?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She started crying.
“I needed the money. And he was my brother. I wanted to believe him.”
“But you knew something wasn’t right.”
“Yes.”
For once, there was no excuse left.
I told her to send me every message Nick had written.
Within minutes, screenshots started arriving.
There were photographs of my clothes inside Tara’s apartment.
Copies of the Marketplace listings.
Payment confirmations.
And a conversation that changed everything.
Nick had written:
*Sell the expensive things first.*
Then:
*She won’t be using most of that stuff much longer.*
And finally:
*Don’t contact Anna. I’ll deal with her.*
Tara had asked why he needed his share so urgently.
