innocent game turned serious

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My cousin suggested we play "phone predictions" at Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone puts their unlocked phone in a basket, someone draws one randomly, and we guess whose life would be most boring based on their last 10 texts. It seemed like harmless fun after we'd polished off the turkey and stuffing.
"Come on, it'll be hilarious," Joffrey insisted, already collecting devices. "We'll finally see who's got the most pathetic digital life." We expected to roast my uncle for his dad jokes or laugh at grandma's autocorrect fails.
By the end of the evening, two people had restraining orders and someone called the FBI.
It started innocent enough. Cruella got grandpa's phone first. "Church group messages about the holiday service," she announced with a theatrical yawn. "Weather alerts. A reminder about his blood pressure medication. Boring as expected, Grandpa." Everyone chuckled.
Then mom drew my brother Draco's phone and everything shifted. Her face changed as she scrolled through his recent messages. The casual smile melted away, replaced by something cold and confused. His recent texts were with someone named "Lex Luthor" discussing moving "product" in "small batches" to avoid "heat." Mom went white, her fingers trembling.
"Draco, what is this?" she whispered, but Draco was already lunging across the room, trying to grab the phone. Cousin Joffrey intercepted it smoothly, his eyes widening.
"Holy shit, Draco's dealing drugs," Joffrey announced, but he was already scrolling to the next thread. "Wait, there's more."
The room fell silent. Draco had been texting our neighbor Mr. Voldemort about "borrowing" packages from doorsteps when people were at work. Detailed schedules noting when families left for vacation. Photos of delivery trucks. A spreadsheet tracking Amazon theft patterns throughout our neighborhood.
"Draco, you've been stealing packages?" Dad's voice cracked with disbelief.
But Uncle Scar was already moving, trying to grab his own phone back when he heard Joffrey's sharp gasp. Too late. We'd all seen Scar's conversation with someone called "Harley Quinn." The messages were explicit, graphic, discussing meeting times and photo sessions. Scar was 52, and we all knew exactly who Harley Quinn was.
The room went nuclear. Shouting erupted as Bellatrix broke down sobbing, confirming our worst fears. Scar tried to explain, but dad was already on his feet, fists clenched.
While everyone screamed at Scar, while mom called Draco a disgrace, grandma quietly shuffled over and handed me Aunt Maleficent's phone with shaking hands.
"Look at this," she whispered.
Maleficent had been texting someone called "The Joker" about grandpa's "accident timeline" and detailed discussions about how his upcoming "fall down the stairs needs to look natural." I'm staring at messages about unaliving my grandfather for insurance money while everyone else argued about drug dealing and preds.
Through my shock, I heard Bellatrix's voice rising above the shouting. "Lex Luthor isn't Draco's drug dealer," she sobbed. "That's my boyfriend's screen name. Draco's been selling videos of me to pay his gambling debts."
The worst discovery came when dad tried calling police using Maleficent's phone. It wouldn't connect. She'd been systematically routing all of grandpa's emergency calls to a disconnected number for months. Every time he'd fallen, called for help, pressed his medical alert button, nothing went through. She'd been isolating him, letting his health deteriorate.
But the absolute worst part revealed itself when Joffrey opened one more text thread. Maleficent had been coordinating everything with Harley Quinn. Scar and Maleficent were business partners. He was grooming Bellatrix for explicit content, Draco was selling it to pay debts that Maleficent had encouraged him to accumulate, and they were splitting profits while waiting for grandpa's life insurance.
The "innocent" phone game revealed almost everyone at the table was either a predator, dealer, thief, or literal attempted unaliver. As sirens wailed in the distance, I realized our family Thanksgiving tradition was permanently destroyed.