And what did it say about me? I felt like a ghoul, sifting through the electronic remains of a murder victim. We all spent so much of our time looking through and observing one another electronically, through social media photos and posts and texts. Scrolling through my social media feeds made me feel like a voyeur, but it was nothing compared to seeing someone’s private messages this way.

But I kept looking, telling myself I would do it just a few minutes longer.

I finished looking at the text messages and decided to check something else. I started searching through the messages that had come through Jennifer’s Facebook account. Those messages also showed up on the download, and the possibility struck me that Jennifer might have spoken to someone through that platform instead of a text. Maybe she had talked to someone there about her problems with Kyle? Maybe a friend or family member had offered her advice and comfort there?

I gave myself a five-minute time limit. When five minutes had elapsed, I promised myself I’d close the software and back away, leaving Jennifer’s private conversations behind forever. Maybe by then Blake would have arrived. Then he could do what he wanted to do, and we could hand everything over to the police.

The list of messages unfurled. I scanned quickly, looking for familiar names. Kyle’s was on there, but the messages he exchanged with her were mundane and rare. They made plans, sounded happy. I saw nothing from Blake, of course. He would have kept his communications with Jennifer limited to texts. When I clicked on some of the other names—friends, coworkers, acquaintances—not much was revealed. I saw exchanges about birthday parties, happy hours, a question about whether she was happy with the model of car she’d purchased the year before and what kind of gas mileage she was getting. And I saw the messages she had sent to me, the ones Amanda had encountered on my computer.

It all made me sad. A person’s life reduced to these mundane discussions. What else had Jennifer left behind? I knew so little about her. She’d passed along the periphery of my life without leaving any real mark. If I’d known a man like Kyle had harassed her, maybe I could have helped. But how often did anyone confide in a stranger? And that was what we had been to each other when all was said and done.

I can’t say why I clicked on the last conversation. The name of the person writing to Jennifer struck me as almost bland. Lily Rose. But no photo accompanied the name, which seemed odd if she and Jennifer were friends. Maybe that was why I clicked there, because the lack of a profile picture and the blandness of the name stood out to me amid all the other noise and messages.