Requires further testing

Obviously magic is a hard sell. You'll have to eliminate all other possibilities to seriously consider that. Unfortunately your options for gathering more information about this program are limited. You spend some time trying to look up the app by name, but nothing turns up on any search engine or archive you know of. All you find is bondage bundles on Everest.mart and weird blogs about why neoliberalism is good.

You consider asking Poison if this is some elaborate prank, but that would require violating the sacred ruse that people who are "good with computers" never discover your porn. That option goes in your back pocket as a last resort.

The photos of you and your mom are the part that bothers you the most, as well as the most difficult to explain. You'll need to consult someone who knows about photography in order to pursue a non-magical explanation. Unfortunately, you know exactly such a person. As you know, she's already off work at this point. You begin the awkward and often embarrassing task of chasing Hannah down.

You check the kitchen and the living room just in case, but unsurprisingly she isn't there. As usual, the signs of life are her locked bedroom door and the inordinately loud lo-fi music blaring inside. You know from experience that knocking never works, but she seems to have a supernatural awareness of whenever you're about to bathe. You sigh, realize the position you're in, and decide to take your shower for the day.

Double-checking that your mom has already left for her date on your way to grab towels, you steel yourself for the grim trap laid ahead of you. The chill of bathroom tiles creeping up your legs. The sight of your own flat, bony chest in the mirror as you peel the oversized hoodie off your body. And the overwhelming awareness, as you stare at the bags under your eyes, that you're never growing out of your gaunt figure. The one thing about your body that can get a little smile out of you is the reminder of your decision to match the carpet to the dark blue drapes.

With the preparatory steps complete, you release the bait by cracking the bathroom door open just enough that someone might be able to stare through the gap. At least you can be warm for this next part.

You're one foot in the shower box when you notice the music stop and the sound of a door opening. Not long after, you hear the bathroom door creak open just a little bit more, and feel your cheeks heat up with the mortifying thrill of exhibition. You decide to put on a little show to sweeten the deal… and as an apology for catching a fellow pervert red-handed. With one leg awkwardly propped up on the bathtub rim, you seductively lather up from your calves to your thighs. As your soapy hands creep toward your ass, you dramatically turn your head to the bathroom door.

"Hey Sis! Could I talk to you in the living room after my shower? Also could you close the door? I think I left it open.”