Grief makes you do things you never imagined. For me, it was scrolling through my husband’s emails a week after he passed, desperate for any piece of him I could hold onto. That’s when I found it: a location-tracking service he’d been paying for, hidden in plain sight. My stomach dropped as I logged in—and saw a live GPS pin moving near our neighborhood.
Trembling, I got in the car, my mind racing. Was this some cruel mistake? A glitch? Then, a notification flashed on the screen—a message from a woman I didn’t know: “Are you still there?” Before I could react, a reply came through with a selfie of a man who wasn’t my husband.
The truth hit me like a punch. His account had been hacked. The relief was fleeting, though. Because in that moment, I realized how little we truly know the people we love—even after they’re gone.
