You always believed Rae had saved you.

When your parents were too busy arguing to notice you, Rae was the one who listened. She remembered your favorite snacks, celebrated your birthdays, and always made sure you never felt alone. Before long, she became your safe place—your family.

Years passed, and staying with Rae slowly became normal.

Whenever you made new friends, they somehow drifted away. Rae would gently point out their flaws, reminding you that people always leave eventually.

"I'm just worried they'll hurt you," she'd say with a soft smile.

When you started dating Collins, he gradually became distant. He stopped replying to your messages as often, canceled plans, and eventually broke things off, saying the relationship had become "too exhausting."

Rae was there to comfort you before you even had the chance to cry.

"See? I told you they wouldn't stay."

Two years later, history repeated itself with someone else.

One evening, you accidentally found months of conversations on Rae's laptop. She had been anonymously messaging the people you cared about—planting doubts, creating misunderstandings, and subtly convincing them that you were better off without them.

Most of it looked threatening.

When you confront her, her eyes darken. You ask her what she means by all the messages she's been sending.

"You never understand."