After my husband’s sudden death, I clung to the mundane tasks of sorting his digital life—until I opened an email about a location-tracking subscription. My curiosity turned to disbelief when I logged in and saw a live dot moving just blocks away. Was this some sick joke?
I drove toward the location, my hands white-knuckled on the wheel. Then, a chat notification appeared. A stranger’s photo. A message: “What should we do next?” And worst of all—a reply from his account with a face I didn’t recognize.
The pieces clicked together: his account had been compromised. But the damage was done. In seconds, grief had twisted into betrayal, then back into grief again. Some discoveries don’t bring closure—they just leave you with more questions than answers.
