I think my evil ex is haunting me.

The Burner Phone

He gave me a burner phone to use temporarily and told me not to log into any of my accounts from any device until he finished checking. Walking out of that coffee shop without my phone felt like losing a limb, but if it helped me figure out what was happening, it was worth it.

Three days later, Raymond called me on the burner phone with news that made my stomach drop and my head clear at the same time. He’d found remote access software on both my laptop and phone that had been installed weeks ago, probably before my ex even died.

He’d also found traces of someone logging into my email, social media, and cloud storage accounts using old passwords I’d shared with my ex years ago and never changed. Whoever was doing this had been watching everything I did online, reading my messages, seeing my location data, and accessing my calendar and photos.

Technical Proof

The violation made me want to throw up, but it also meant I wasn’t crazy or imagining things. This was real, it was documented, and now I had technical proof that someone was stalking me through my devices.

Raymond said he’d write up a detailed report with all the evidence and I should forward it to the detective immediately. I sent Sebastian the technical report the same day and he called me back within an hour.

He said this gave him something concrete to investigate, which meant he could assign more priority to my case and start pulling records. He explained that he’d request logs from my account providers showing IP addresses and login locations which might help identify who was accessing my accounts.

Moving in the Shadows

He said the remote access software was sophisticated enough that this was clearly planned and deliberate, not just someone guessing my passwords. He asked if I was somewhere safe and I told him I was staying with Clare for a few days while we figured this out.

He said that was smart and to keep documenting everything and that he’d update me as soon as he had more information. Hanging up that call, I felt something shift inside me.

I wasn’t just a victim anymore; I was building a case, gathering evidence, and whoever was doing this to me was about to find out that I wasn’t going to disappear quietly like they wanted. I spent that night at Clare’s making lists on my laptop of everyone who’d been in my ex’s life and might know enough about me to pull this off.

The Suspect List

His mom lived three states away and barely left her house according to Facebook, so probably not her. His brother in Denver had alibis for half the incidents based on his work schedule I found online.

His gym buddies were possibilities, but none of them knew where I lived or had access to my routines. Then I kept coming back to Annie Maloney, his best friend who’d posted this long tribute after he died about how he was misunderstood and the legal system destroyed good men.

She’d shown up at the courthouse during one of my restraining order hearings and stared at me like I’d murdered her dog. She knew our apartment, knew his habits, and knew how he liked things arranged.

Legal Armor

I added three stars next to her name and kept digging through her social media, looking for anything that might connect her to the incidents. The next morning, I met Cecilia at the advocacy center and showed her everything Raymond had found plus my suspect list.

She said we should file for a protection order even without knowing for sure who was doing this because having legal standing would help once we identified them. We spent two hours filling out forms, documenting every incident with dates and times, and attaching Raymond’s technical report and photos of the bruises and scratches.

The judge reviewed everything that afternoon and granted a temporary order against unknown persons engaged in stalking and harassment. Cecilia explained: “We couldn’t serve it until we had a name.”

Workplace Support

Walking out of that courthouse with legal paperwork felt like I’d armed myself with something real instead of just fear and confusion. My boss called me that same evening asking why I’d missed another shift, and I had to go into her office the next day expecting to get fired.

I sat across from her desk trying not to cry while I explained that someone was stalking me, that I had police reports and court orders, and that I was staying at a friend’s place because my apartment wasn’t safe. She listened without interrupting and then surprised me by saying the company had policies for this kind of thing.

We worked out a temporary schedule with fewer hours and more flexibility so I could keep my job while dealing with everything. Leaving her office, I felt this weird gratitude mixed with shame that I needed accommodations at all, but at least I wouldn’t lose my income on top of everything else.

Motion Alerts

Two weeks crawled by while I checked my hidden camera feeds obsessively from Clare’s couch, watching nothing happen night after night. Then at 2:00 a.m. on a Tuesday, my phone buzzed with a motion alert and I nearly dropped it pulling up the live feed.

A figure in dark clothes and a hoodie moved through my apartment like they owned the place and my hands shook so hard I could barely hold the phone steady. They went straight to the thermostat and adjusted it, then lined up my shoes by the door in that perfect military row, then turned my coffee mug handle to face left.

I was watching someone recreate my ex’s control patterns in real time, and the footage was capturing every second. I called Sebastian immediately, even though it was the middle of the night, and he told me to save everything and not go back to the apartment.

Patterns of a Stalker

Raymond called me the next morning after I forwarded him the footage timestamp, and he said he’d found login activity from a device near my building at 3:00 a.m. that matched the camera timing. He couldn’t identify who owned the device yet, but the pattern showed someone physically close who’d been planning these incidents carefully over weeks.

The technical evidence was piling up, but we still needed a face and a name. Sebastian called that afternoon with an idea that made my stomach hurt.

He wanted me to establish a predictable absence so we could lure the intruder back while cameras rolled and he positioned nearby to catch them. Using myself as bait felt wrong on every level, but I was so tired of being scared and I needed this to end.

Finding the Bug

I told him I’d do it. The next day, I met Raymond at a parking lot because he told me to check my car again with a better tracker detector he was lending me.

I crawled around my car in broad daylight, not caring who saw me, running this wand thing under every panel and wheel well. It beeped under my rear bumper and I found a tiny black device taped up inside, smaller than my thumb.

I had to sit there in the parking lot breathing through waves of rage that someone had been tracking my every movement for who knows how long. Sebastian told me to leave it in place when I called him because we needed to document the pattern and build a stronger case before removing evidence.