y,Bethany FINDS OUT Brooke Had Isaiah Steal & Sell Her OWN Purse 👛full story in first coment BEOLW👇

Bethany Finds Out Brooke Had Isaiah Steal & Sell Her Own Purse 👛

The autumn sun dipped below the rooftops of Meadowbrook, streaking the sky in gold and violet. Bethany sat on the back steps of her townhouse, scrolling absently through her phone. The evening should’ve been peaceful — a glass of wine, her cat purring beside her — but her mind was tangled. She’d been missing something for days now, something that nagged at her more than she wanted to admit: her favorite purse.

It wasn’t just any purse. It was a limited-edition Mulberry, buttery soft leather, deep forest green, with her initials discreetly embossed inside. A graduation gift from her mom — who’d worked two jobs to afford it. When it went missing after a weekend get-together with friends, Bethany had convinced herself she’d simply misplaced it.

But after turning her place upside down, nothing. It was gone.

And the strangest part? Her friend Brooke had acted weirdly calm when Bethany mentioned it. Brooke — always the first to gossip, the first to help search for lost keys or missing earrings — had just shrugged. “You probably left it somewhere, babe,” she’d said, not even looking up from her phone.

Bethany had let it slide. Until now.

That night, while scrolling through a local resell app, something caught her eye — a listing for a “Green Mulberry Satchel – Excellent Condition”. The seller’s username was “IzzyDeals23.”

Her heart skipped.
The photo was unmistakable. That scuff on the lower corner? The tiny nick near the clasp? It was hers.

She clicked on the profile. The seller’s name — Isaiah Martinez.

Isaiah. Brooke’s ex.

Her pulse quickened. She and Isaiah weren’t close, but she’d seen him hanging around Brooke again lately. It was too much of a coincidence.

Bethany didn’t sleep that night. Instead, she sent a message through the app, pretending to be an interested buyer. They agreed to meet the next afternoon at a coffee shop downtown.

When Isaiah showed up, his face was nervous. He placed the purse on the table, and Bethany’s stomach turned. It was definitely hers. The initials inside proved it.

“Where’d you get this?” she asked, her voice level but cold.

Isaiah stammered. “Uh—look, Brooke said it was hers. She told me to sell it for her. Said she needed cash fast.”

Bethany’s jaw tightened. “She told you it was hers?”

He nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I swear, I didn’t know. She said she’d pay me a cut.”

Bethany took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. She thanked him for being honest, grabbed the purse, and walked out before he could say more.

Her hands shook all the way to Brooke’s apartment.

Brooke opened the door, smiling, hair perfectly curled, music playing softly behind her. “Hey, babe! What’s up?”

Bethany didn’t waste time. She held up the purse.
“This look familiar?”

Brooke froze for half a second — barely noticeable, but enough. Then she rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you found it! I told you it’d turn up.”

“Cut it, Brooke,” Bethany said quietly. “Isaiah told me everything.”

Brooke’s smile faltered. “Everything?”

“That you told him to sell it. That you said it was yours. That you were going to split the money.”

Silence.

Then Brooke scoffed. “Okay, fine. But you don’t get it, Bethany. You’ve been flaunting that bag for months while I’ve been drowning. Rent, bills—”

“So you stole from me?”

“I borrowed!” Brooke snapped. “I was going to tell you. I just needed—”

“No. You used me.” Bethany’s voice cracked, equal parts anger and heartbreak. “I trusted you.”

Brooke’s face softened briefly, guilt flickering — but pride drowned it fast. “Whatever. It’s just a purse.”

Bethany stared at her, truly seeing her for the first time — the envy, the excuses, the lies. She felt something inside her settle.

“Not anymore,” she said, stepping back. “You’re out of my life, Brooke.”

As Bethany turned and walked down the hallway, the purse swinging gently at her side, she realized it wasn’t just about the bag. It was about respect, and self-worth, and knowing when to walk away.

That night, she placed the purse back on its hook — a little scuffed, a little scarred, but still beautiful.

Just like her.