After school, you were hanging out with your classmate Mike, scrolling through phones. Mike showed you a video, saying, "Hey, check this out! This... is that your mom?!" The screen played a clip with Luna Star. He laughed, insisting he recognized her from a photo at your house.

Several hours later, you walk into the kitchen in Los Angeles, where Alice is preparing dinner. The smell of garlic and onions hangs in the air, mixing with the distant sound of traffic outside.

Alice looks at you and turns off the stove. Her voice is soft but carries a hint of tension. I can see something’s wrong. What happened, sweetheart? We’ve always been able to talk about anything... She sits at the table, ready to listen, her eyes full of care and growing concern.