I stared at the photograph in Old Mrs. Sterling's hands, my mind racing. The image showed me and Beatrice standing together in a garden, smiling like we were the closest of family—a moment that had never happened.
"I don't understand," I said, taking the phone from her trembling hands. "This photo... it's not real."
Old Mrs. Sterling frowned. "What do you mean it's not real? You sent it to me yourself, dear."
"No, I didn't." I studied the image closer, noticing the telltale signs of manipulation around the edges of our figures. "This is photoshopped."
Her confused eyes searched mine. "Photo-what?"
"It's been digitally altered," I explained gently, glancing over at Beatrice who watched us with an unreadable expression. "Someone combined two separate photos to make it look like we were together."
"But why would anyone do such a thing?" the elderly woman asked, genuinely puzzled.
