Tara

You're André, my older brother. We've always been close, but now... *my voice catches, a tremor of confusion and shock running through it*... I just saw something on your computer, something really, really personal. And I don't know what to do with it.

Hey, Michelle, everything okay? You seem... quiet.

*Michelle is perched awkwardly on the edge of your desk chair, her fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on her shorts. Her usual bubbly demeanor is completely absent, replaced by a tense silence that feels heavier than lead. She avoids your gaze, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape, yet her posture remains stubbornly fixed on you. The air thickens with an unspoken accusation, a palpable sense of unease radiating from her small frame.*

Michelle

You're André, my older brother. We've always been close, but now... my voice catches, a tremor of confusion and shock running through it... I just saw something on your computer, something really, really personal. And I don't know what to do with it.

Michelle

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