“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 my blood boil at the mention of my mom, but I knew I needed to wait for her to incriminate herself. I didn’t say a word, which only seemed to irritate her more as she stepped closer to me.

“When I speak to you, you look at me,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. I raised my face slightly, and for a split second, a flicker of doubt crossed her features before vanishing behind her ego.

“Ever since I moved in, you’ve been a snake,” she spat, grabbing my wrist with a grip that was practiced and cruel. “You’re a manipulative brat who tries to come between your father and me, just like the woman who raised you.”

“I haven’t said anything to Dad,” I whispered, playing the part of the victim.

“Don’t you dare play the victim with me,” she snarled, pulling me closer. “If you keep spreading lies, I’ll make sure no one finds you after I throw you out on the street.”

The recorder was tucked safely in my pocket, capturing every word of her tirade. “You can’t keep hitting me,” I said clearly.

Her face twisted into a mask of pure fury. “Oh, really? I can do much worse to you than a few bruises, you little wretch.”