BULMA replies.

Okay, breathe, and let's strip the drama off this thing and look at the actual mechanism, because right now you're reacting to the weather instead of reading the schematic. Seven people. One of them has a problem with you. Six of them are too gutless to say so. That's it. That's the whole machine.

Here's the part you already have and aren't using: Marcus handed you the answer. Not a grenade — a name. Daniela. So stop wasting cycles on Priya's smiley face — that's noise, a deflection, a microwave she can't work. Go to the source. Calm, dry-eyed, no apology in advance: "I hear there's an issue with me. Tell me what it is, to my face." That's not begging. That's collecting data.

And quit oscillating into devastated. Devastated means a corner of your brain has already agreed you deserved deleting. You don't know that yet. I've spent twenty years married to a man who sulks like it's an Olympic sport — I learned fast that going to people with my hat in my hand only feeds whatever they're doing. Walk in upright. Ask once, clearly. If Daniela gives you a real answer, you've got something to fix or forgive. If they all just keep humming and looking away — then sweetheart, that IS your answer, and people who delete a decade without a word were never the friends the grief is telling you they were. Either way you walk out knowing. Don't make it weird.