My sister went to my rich boyfriend’s place and told him to “try it,” so I exposed her.

A week later Adam got an email about an amazing job opportunity from a company called Techvision Solutions offering him double his current salary. Something felt wrong about it so he forwarded it to his IT friend who traced the email headers.

The IP address came from a coffee shop two blocks from where Mia’s friend lived. We added it to our growing file of restraining order violations, and our lawyer said we now had enough evidence for criminal harassment charges.

My therapy session that week turned into a breakthrough moment I didn’t see coming. I was talking about missing the sister I used to play with as a kid when my therapist asked me to describe specific memories.

I couldn’t find any that weren’t tainted by Mia trying to take my toys or friends or attention. That’s when it hit me that I had been mourning a sister who never actually existed.

The Mia I wished I had was just a fantasy I created to cope with the reality of who she really was. 3 weeks later we finished loading the last box into the moving truck and drove to our new apartment across the city.

The security guard checked our IDs and key fobs before letting us into the parking garage. We spent the day unpacking and setting up our new home with its reinforced door locks and security system.

That night I actually slept 8 hours straight without waking up in a panic for the first time in months. The next morning Dad texted me that Mia had moved in with some guy she met online after knowing him for exactly 1 week.

He was worried about her making such reckless decisions, but acknowledged he couldn’t control what she did anymore. He said she seemed desperate to find someone to take care of her now that the family had stepped back.

Three days passed before Rachel called me at work with her voice shaking so bad I could barely understand her. Someone had called her company’s HR department claiming to be doing a background check on me for some government job.

They asked all these weird questions about my mental health and if I had any history of making false accusations against family members. Rachel’s boss pulled her into a meeting because the caller specifically asked about our friendship.

The HR manager got suspicious when the caller couldn’t provide any official documentation and started asking really personal stuff. They traced the call to a prepaid phone bought with cash at a gas station 20 miles outside Seattle.

The caller knew things like where I went to college and the name of my first job out of school. Rachel’s HR department filed a report with the police since impersonating a government official is a federal crime.

I drove straight to the police station and added this to our growing harassment file against Mia. The detective looked through everything and said with the restraining order violations plus this new stuff she could be looking at actual jail time.

That night mom called me sobbing because Mia had shown up at their house screaming about needing money for a lawyer. She kept saying we were trying to destroy her life with lies and that she never did anything wrong.

Dad had to physically block the door while mom called the police, but Mia left before they arrived. The prosecutor’s office called me 3 weeks later with an update on the case.

They were offering Mia a plea deal of 6 months probation with mandatory therapy if she admitted to the harassment. If she refused and went to trial, she could face up to 18 months in jail.

I was at Pike Place Market the following Saturday when I saw a woman with Mia’s exact haircut walking toward me. My whole body went cold and I ducked behind a flower stand with my heart pounding.

It turned out to be just some random woman buying vegetables, but I couldn’t stop shaking for an hour. Adam found me sitting on a bench trying to calm down and held me while I cried about being scared of my own shadow.

The prosecutor called 2 days later to say Mia had rejected the plea deal and was demanding a trial. She kept insisting she was innocent and that we were all conspiring against her.

The judge set a trial date for 3 months out and warned her that any contact with us would result in immediate arrest. Derek reached out through his lawyer saying he would testify about Mia’s past behavior and harassment patterns.

His fianceé also agreed to testify about the recent texts and calls Mia had been making to their house. They had documented everything including voicemails where Mia threatened to ruin their wedding if Derrick didn’t help her.

The fake text messages with the wrong font—that’s like showing up to court with evidence written in crayon. Even Judge Judy would have laughed at that amateur hour attempt.

Adam and I started going to couples therapy together to deal with all the stress this was causing. The therapist helped us work through the constant anxiety and fear that Mia would show up somewhere.

2 weeks into therapy mom called to tell me Mia’s new roommate had kicked her out. He caught her going through his desk trying to get into his bank statements and credit card information.

She was now sleeping on different people’s couches and posting on social media about being a victim of circumstances. The next Monday I went back to work full-time for the first time in weeks.

The company had installed new key card readers on every floor and hired extra security guards. Rachel met me at my desk with coffee and showed me the panic button they’d installed under my workstation.

It felt weird being back, but also good to have some normal routine again. 3 days later Adam called me from his office sounding confused.

Someone had left an envelope on his desk while he was in a meeting and it had no return address. Inside was a typed letter warning him that I was just like my sister and he should run while he could.

The letter said I’d eventually show my true colors and destroy his life just like Mia destroyed everyone around her. Adam brought it straight to our lawyer who sent it to the police for fingerprint analysis.

The forensics team found partial prints on the paper that matched Mia’s from her previous arrests. They also noticed the paper had a watermark from a specific brand sold at only three stores in Seattle.

Security footage from one store showed Mia buying that exact paper 2 days before the letter appeared. Our lawyer added it to the growing pile of evidence for the harassment charges.

When we met with him the following week, he told us Mia’s public defender was pushing hard for a mental health evaluation. They were trying to argue she wasn’t mentally competent to stand trial and needed treatment instead of jail time.

A month later I found myself sitting at my kitchen table at 2 a.m. writing a letter I knew I’d never send. I wrote about the sister I thought I had growing up and how that person never really existed.

I wrote about the birthday parties she ruined and the friends she stole and the trust she shattered over and over. I folded the letter and put it in a drawer knowing I’d never mail it, but needing to get the words out anyway.

2 weeks after that the court-ordered psychiatric evaluation results came in. The psychiatrist diagnosed Mia with narcissistic personality disorder with antisocial features.

The report described how she showed no real empathy for others and viewed people as objects to manipulate. It explained how she’d likely been this way since childhood but her parents’ enabling had prevented her from facing consequences until now.

This meant she was mentally competent to stand trial and the insanity defense wouldn’t work. Mom called me crying after she read the report, saying she couldn’t believe she’d missed all the signs.

They started going to therapy together the next week to work through their role in creating the monster Mia had become. 3 months after the criminal charges were filed we finally got our trial date.

I threw up that morning from nerves and Adam had to help me get dressed because my hands were shaking so bad. Walking into the courthouse felt surreal, like I was watching someone else’s life on TV.

Then I saw her for the first time since that day at the apartment. Mia sat at the defendant’s table in a plain gray suit, looking smaller than I remembered.