My coworker, Simone, waddled over to my desk, holding her rounded belly. “Nora, could you let me crash at your apartment near the office for a few months?” “Commuting across town while pregnant is killing me. I really can’t take it anymore. I promise I’ll move out the second I give birth.” I was just about to nod when a line of floating text materialized right before my eyes. [Don’t nod.] A second later, dense streams of bullet comments flooded across my vision like a bright projection screen. [The fetus in her belly lost its heartbeat three days ago.] [The child belongs to your boyfriend, Sam.] [Tonight, Simone will collapse inside your apartment. She’ll cry to everyone that you lost your mind with jealousy after discovering the truth, pushing her down the stairs.] [At that exact moment, your home network will leak the confidential bidding price for the company’s major project.] [You’ll be suspended, dragged through the dirt online, held legally liable by the company, and branded as a monster who killed a pregnant woman’s baby and sold out trade secrets.] I stared at those glowing words, a bone-chilling cold creeping up my spine inch by inch. Simone stood there, waiting expectantly for my answer. I looked down at her slightly swollen waistline, then slowly closed my laptop. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice steady. “I don’t lend my home out to anyone.” 1 The conference room fell into a dead silence for several seconds. Simone’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Did I make things difficult for you? I’m so sorry, Nora. I just thought being closer to the office would make it easier to handle late-night project changes.” The product manager sitting next to me leaned in and whispered, “Nora, your place usually sits empty anyway.” Another colleague chimed in to coax me. “Yeah, it’s only for a few months. Simone’s still pushing through work despite being heavily pregnant. It really isn’t easy for her.” Trent, sitting at the head of the table, tapped his knuckles against the mahogany surface. “Nora, we’re at a critical phase of the project right now. Supporting team members isn’t a bad thing.” I raised my eyes to meet his gaze. “Trent, if this involves an employee borrowing private property, does it need to go through formal corporate compliance registration?” Trent frowned. “There’s no need to make something so simple so complicated.” “Then it’s even more inappropriate,” I replied, clicking the cap back onto my pen. “That apartment is my private property, not a company resource.” “If Simone needs a place to stay, she can apply for a corporate housing stipend according to company policy. I’ll gladly sign off on her request.” Simone bit her lower lip, tears hanging delicately from her lashes. “But finding a place on short notice is so hard right now, and anything close to the office is way too expensive.” “Nora, I thought after working through so many late nights together, we were friends.” The moment those words left her mouth, the atmosphere in the room turned uncomfortably tense. I didn’t take the emotional bait. “Even friends need boundaries.” Someone murmured quietly in the corner. “That’s so cold-hearted.” “She’s probably just terrified Simone will steal her credit for the project later.” “Being pregnant isn’t a crime. Is there really a need to guard against her like she’s an enemy?” More bullet comments drifted across my vision. [She’s putting you on the hot seat.] [Don’t bother explaining. The more you defend yourself, the more guilty you look to them.] [Sam will call you in ten minutes.] Less than ten minutes after the meeting adjourned, my phone vibrated in my hand. “Nora, I heard you turned Simone down today?” I stood inside the quiet stairwell, staring out at the hazy, gray sky beyond the windowpane. “Word travels fast to you.” He let out a low, smooth chuckle over the line. “A lot of people at our two firms went to college together. The group chats are buzzing. Don’t take it to heart, babe. I’m just worried people will misunderstand you.” “And?” “She’s a pregnant woman, Nora. There’s no reason to sour your relationship over this. It’s just crash space. You could always have her sign a short-term agreement.” The comments floated past, icy and sharp. [Listen to how considerate he sounds.] [He still remembers the backup door code to your place.] [He literally sent photos of your living room to Simone last week.] My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned pale. “Sam, do you know Simone well?” There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “I’ve heard her name around. We aren’t close.” I let out a soft smile. “Not close, huh?” “Of course not. Babe, have you been overly stressed lately? Don’t overcomplicate things or assume the worst in people.” “Right,” I said, and hung up the phone. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t scream. The bullet comments were right. Tearing off the mask right now would only warn them to switch tactics early. I walked back to my desk and sent a quick message to Audrey, our senior legal counsel. “Are you free tonight? I need your help securing some evidence.” She replied almost instantly. “What happened?” I glanced toward Simone, who was sitting a short distance away, wiping her eyes with her head lowered. “Someone wants to borrow my apartment.” “And take my life while they’re at it.” 2 After work, I drove straight to the apartment on Chestnut Street. Behind the entryway door, near the bottom frame, was a faint pencil mark. Beside it were crooked, faded numbers written years ago: Nora, age twenty. Remember to come home even when you grow up. It was the final height mark my father had drawn for me during the last year of his life. I stood in the quiet hallway, staring at those faded pencil lines for a long time. Then, I got to work. By the time Audrey arrived with two officers from the notary public, I had turned on every light in the apartment. The living room, master bedroom, study, kitchen, balcony, and bathroom were bathed in bright light. We recorded continuous video footage covering every single corner. Door locks, window latches, the Wi-Fi router, my desktop computer, bookshelves, and tamper-evident seals on the drawers were all captured clearly on camera. Audrey watched me, her eyebrows drawing together. “Who exactly are you protecting yourself against?” “A pregnant woman.” Her hands paused mid-action. “You can’t make accusations like that lightly.” “I know. That’s why I’m only collecting evidence.” In front of the notary officials, I updated the master password for the smart lock system and revoked every temporary access code ever created. The visitor pass code I had given Sam months ago was completely wiped from the system. System Notification: Access permission successfully removed. I took a screenshot and uploaded it straight to my encrypted cloud storage. Next, I restored my old home router to factory settings and requested remote technical support from Ray, the head of our IT security department. Ray listened to my instructions on the phone, remaining silent for a long moment. “Are you absolutely certain you want to wipe the authentic bidding documents from your personal local drive?” “Positive.” “Then what are we leaving on your home computer?” “A honeypot file.” “How fake are we talking?” “Fake enough to look entirely real, but embedded with tracking code so every interaction leaves a permanent digital footprint.” Ray let out a low chuckle. “Got it.” At one in the morning, a text from Sam popped up on my phone. “Still working, babe? I ordered some warm milk for you. It’s waiting at your office front desk.” A second later, Simone posted a message in the main project group chat. “It was my fault today for putting Nora in an uncomfortable position.” “Please don’t blame her, everyone. I’ll come in early tomorrow. Even if I live far away, I won’t let it slow down our project progress.” Comforting messages flooded the chat immediately. “You’re already working so hard, Simone.” “Don’t cry, take care of your health first.” “Some people get promoted into management and completely forget how hard life is for ordinary staff.” I didn’t reply. A bullet comment drifted lazily across my screen. [Don’t touch that document folder at the front desk.] [There’s a flash drive inside. The moment you plug it into your computer, it will install remote-access spyware.] I checked my phone. The receptionist had just sent a notification: “Ms. Ellis, someone dropped off a late-night snack for you along with a document folder. They said it contains important review materials.” I typed back: “Leave it untouched under the lobby security camera. I’ll have IT security collect it tomorrow morning.” The next morning, Ray walked into my office holding an anti-static bag. “You’ve got terrifying instincts, Nora.” “The flash drive contains a custom Trojan horse disguised as a PDF reader plugin. The second it touches a PC, an external party gains full remote file access.” I looked at the sleek black drive. “Can we trace the origin?” “No fingerprints on the casing, but we can trace the hardware batch number.” “Also, the courier wore a mask, but the lobby camera captured a clear side profile.” Audrey stood beside my desk, her face darkening. “Nora, from this moment on, do not handle any project materials in private.” I nodded. “I need to file a formal compliance disclosure with the company.” “Regarding what?” “My boyfriend, Sam, is the project lead for our main competitor on this bid.” Audrey let out a rare curse. “Why are you only telling me this now?” I kept my voice low. “Because I only realized today that he might be far more than just a boyfriend.” 3 The night before the final bid sealing, Trent suddenly ordered me to head to our client’s East District headquarters. “The client representative requires the project lead to confirm a clarification letter in person. It should only take thirty minutes back and forth.” I scanned the email CC list. Sam was included in the client communication thread. The bullet comments refreshed rapidly. [Classic diversion tactic.] [They’re breaking into your apartment right now.] [Don’t go alone. Take legal counsel with you and keep your GPS location active.] I turned around and grabbed Audrey. “Come with me.” Trent’s expression turned sour. “Why are you bringing legal? The client will think we don’t trust them.” Audrey clipped her employee badge onto her blazer. “Company policy requires legal presence for any offline confirmations during the blackout period before bid submission.” Trent didn’t say another word. On the drive to the East District, I activated continuous audio recording and shared my real-time location with Ray. When we arrived at the client’s corporate building, the receptionist informed us that the representative had left minutes ago. When I dialed his cell, his assistant offered a vague excuse: “He must have gotten the meeting time mixed up.” Audrey and I exchanged a sharp glance. We turned around and raced back toward the city. Halfway through the drive, my phone buzzed violently. It was Mr. Davis, the property manager at Chestnut Street, his voice trembling through the speaker. “Ms. Ellis, you need to get back here right now! Something terrible happened inside your apartment!” My blood ran cold. “Who is in my apartment?” “A pregnant woman! She said she’s your coworker. She collapsed in your living room, there’s blood on the floor, and the ambulance is already on its way!” Audrey gripped my wrist firmly. “Stay calm. Don’t say anything over the phone.” I stared out the car window at the streetlights flashing past in a blur. The bullet comments flared up, blindingly dense. [Her performance has started.] [Someone has already posted photos in your work group chat.] [The corporate security system is about to sound an automated alarm.] Sure enough, a second later, the main project chat exploded. Someone had uploaded a photo. It was my living room. Simone lay motionless on the hardwood floor, her face deathly pale, her hands clutching her stomach, and a streak of blood smearing her dress. The caption read: Something horrible happened at Nora’s place! Simone looks like she’s having a miscarriage! Immediately after, an automated IT security alert popped up on my screen. Alert: Core bidding file transmission detected. Source IP: Unit 602, Chestnut Street, Nora Ellis residential network. The group chat went completely chaotic. “Her home network? Are you serious?” “Why was Simone even at her apartment?” “Nora turned her down yesterday, and now Simone’s injured in her living room? That’s way too suspicious.” “The confidential bid was leaked from her home? Isn’t her boyfriend that project director from Nexus Systems?” My fingertips turned ice-cold. Sam’s name lit up my screen. I answered the call. “Nora, where are you? Simone said you two got into an argument… She fell.” I asked, my voice flat, “What else did she say?” He paused for a heartbeat. “She said… you found out about the baby.” “What baby?” “Nora,” he lowered his tone, sounding deeply concerned. “Now isn’t the time to assign blame. Come back right now, cooperate with everyone, and keep your attitude cooperative. I’ll help you hire a top defense lawyer.” A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You’ll help me, Sam?” “I’m doing this for your own good, babe.” “Then meet me at the scene.” I hung up. Ten minutes later, I sprinted up the stairs to the sixth floor. The hallway was packed with onlookers. Paramedics were wheeling a stretcher out of my doorway. Simone lay on it, cold sweat glistening on her forehead. The moment she caught sight of me, tears spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks. “Nora, I just wanted a place closer to work so I could help finish the project!” “Even if you found out the baby belongs to Sam, how could you do this to me?”
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