Naked Scripts
By sunrise I have screenshots, a full folder, and an email draft addressed to Mom with the link and the caption “You should see what Katie does for money.”
Timestamped and everything.
I wait until Mom and Dave leave for work.
The house is quiet except for the coffee machine dripping.
Katie pads into the kitchen in an oversized T-shirt and tiny sleep shorts, hair messy, no idea I know.
“Morning,” she yawns, reaching for a mug.
I lean against the counter, phone in hand.
“Morning, KittyKat19.”
The mug almost slips from her fingers.
She spins around, eyes huge.
“W-what did you just call me?”