Sofia sat hunched over Naomi's desk, staring at the glowing laptop screen like it might bite her.
The spreadsheet was open. The folders were neatly color-coded. The digital breadcrumbs of her worst mistake cataloged with meticulous care.
"It's weird," Sofia murmured. "Seeing it all laid out like this. The fake messages. The screenshots. It's like watching a disaster happen in slow motion."
Naomi didn't answer right away. She was clicking through a checklist she'd made in Google Docs:
⸻
🗹 Save and back up all messages from Ian
🗹 Copy all app logs, timestamps, IP info (as available)
🗹 Screen record device when contacting Ian
🗹 Use secure audio recording app during live call
🗹 Encrypt folder & upload to anonymous cloud
⬜ Record confession
⬜ Notify advocacy contact (if needed)
⬜ Deliver to trusted adult or law enforcement
⸻
Naomi exhaled. "This isn't about regret anymore. It's about proof. Evidence. Something they can't ignore."
"But how do we get him to confess?" Sofia asked. "He's smart. Cautious. Half the time he barely says anything directly."
Naomi looked at her. "That's why it has to come from you. You're the only one he thinks he can still manipulate."
Sofia swallowed. "You want me to pretend I'm… back on his side?"
"Exactly," Naomi said. "But you're not lying for him this time. You're lying to him."
Sofia nodded slowly, chewing her lip. "Okay. So I unblock him. Or I wait for him to message me again. I tell him… what? That I miss the connection?"
"More like you're afraid," Naomi said. "You play into his fantasy — say Harper's turning your dad against you, that you feel alone. That you want to meet again, to talk things through. You act like you need him."
Sofia grimaced. "That's disgusting."
"I know," Naomi said gently. "But it's also the truth, right? That's what he wants. To be needed. To feel in control again."
Sofia leaned back in the chair. "So I talk to him. We record everything. Then what?"
"We get a confession," Naomi said. "Even just a verbal acknowledgment of the blackmail, or that he knows about Harper's routines. Something you can't explain away. Then we go to the police. Or if they won't act, we bring it to someone else — your mom, your dad, Harper, the school counselor, anyone with authority."
"What if he gets suspicious?"
"Then we cut off contact immediately," Naomi replied. "We push the evidence forward before he can retaliate. But we do it right."
She paused.
"Which means you have to be ready."
⸻
They worked for two more hours, writing out example scripts, practicing tone and delivery, reviewing how to use Naomi's screen-recording app and encrypted file locker. Naomi even made a fake alias email that could be used to forward the data anonymously if things went south.
Sofia stared at the list one last time.
"You okay?" Naomi asked.
Sofia nodded, voice hollow. "I'm just trying to figure out how I went from catfishing my stepmom to becoming the target of a stalker. It's like watching myself turn into someone else."
"You're not," Naomi said. "You're someone who made a mistake. And now you're trying to fix it."
Sofia pulled out her phone.
She stared at Ian's contact.
Blocked.
Still there.
Still waiting.
Her finger hovered over the "unblock" button.
"I'll message him tomorrow," she said quietly. "When I'm alone. When I'm ready."
Naomi nodded. "I'll be recording everything. You won't be alone. Not this time."
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