My female coworker held her lower belly and leaned over my cubicle. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Chloe, there are a few boxes of files in the basement archive. Can you come help me carry them?” In my past life, I was too soft-hearted. I went with her. Half an hour later, she lay in the pool of her own blood in the emergency stairwell. Blood soaked half the hallway. When she woke up in the hospital, she cried and pointed at me. “Chloe forced me to carry those heavy boxes. She pushed me!” I was fired, sued, and bankrupted. My father suffered a fatal heart attack from the stress, my mother went insane, and I eventually jumped off the roof of our office building. It was only after my death that I found out she had eight sugar daddies at the same time. Her pregnancy was already doomed due to multiple previous abortions. This time, I sat firmly in my chair and didn’t budge. “You’re pregnant, Bella. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things.” I picked up my phone and opened our department’s main Snapchat group. “Let me get you some help.” I typed out a message: “Bella is pregnant. She needs male colleagues to help retrieve files from the basement archive. Elevator use only.” I hit send. The office instantly went dead silent. Bella’s face froze. The administrative supervisor, Sarah, replied in the chat: “On it.” HR followed up immediately: “I will confirm the safety protocols for pregnant employees right now.” Bella opened her mouth, flustered. “You didn’t have to tell everyone…” I looked her straight in the eye. “You’re pregnant, Bella. It’s not safe for you to go alone.” In my past life, she led me into that blind spot in the stairwell where there were no security cameras. In this life, I was going to make sure she walked a path under the watchful eyes of everyone.
Bella bit her lower lip, her eyes turning red. “Chloe, I just wanted you to walk down with me. I didn’t say I was going to make you do all the lifting.” I put my phone back on the desk. “You literally just said ‘come help me carry them.’” Her face turned pale. “I… I must have phrased it wrong.” “No worries,” I smiled. “That’s why I’m helping you follow the official safety procedures.” She stared at me. The look in her eyes lasted only a fraction of a second. It was too quick for anyone else to notice the pure hatred in it. A few seconds later, she put on her victim face again. “Are you still mad at me because I didn’t finish editing the project proposal last time? I know my efficiency went down after I got pregnant, but I really didn’t mean to drag the team down.” Emma Jenkins immediately whispered to comfort her, “Bella, don’t overthink it. Chloe is probably just looking out for you.” Tyler Carter sneered. “Looking out for her by blasting her pregnancy in the main group? Pregnant women deserve some privacy, don’t they?” I looked up at him. “Then you go carry the boxes, Tyler.” Tyler choked on his words. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.” Just then, Sarah, the admin supervisor, walked over pushing a utility cart. Sarah glanced at Bella and said politely, “Bella, you don’t need to go down there. Just email me the file names and box numbers, and we’ll get them. Pregnant staff are not allowed in the archive room or to lift heavy loads. That’s company policy.” Bella stood there, totally paralyzed. I added, “Since those files contain bidding drafts, please log the box numbers and take photos of them for the record.” Sarah nodded. “Right. Bidding documents must have a clear paper trail.” Bella’s expression grew even uglier. She didn’t actually want the files. She wanted me alone with her in the basement, in the emergency stairwell where the security cameras had been broken for three months. In my past life, she “fell” there. No one saw it. So whatever she said became the absolute truth. She said I pushed her. I said I didn’t. The company asked me for proof. I had none. In this life, I would never go to any secluded spot with her again. Bella lowered her head and sent the file details to Sarah. After Sarah left with her team, Bella remained standing by my desk. After a long silence, she whispered, “Chloe, you seem so guarded against me now.” I opened the meeting minutes on my screen without even looking up. “A paper trail in the workplace protects you, and it protects me.” At 3:00 PM, the files were delivered to the conference room. Sarah posted the photos in the chat group. Every step of the process was perfectly documented. No one could find a single flaw. Before leaving work, Bella posted an update on her Snapchat story. It was a picture of a hospital hallway. The caption read: “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Mommy tried her best.” Within ten minutes, her comment section blew up. “What’s wrong, Bella?” “Did the company make you work overtime again?” “Being pregnant at work is so hard. Sending hugs.” Bella replied to all of them with: “I’m fine. I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone.” I stared at that sentence for two seconds, took a screenshot, and saved it. Then I turned off my phone. Bella wasn’t going to stop. She wanted my spot for the European relocation program. And she wanted to find a scapegoat for the baby she was already bound to lose. Sure enough, she didn’t show up for work the next day. On the third day, the HR Director, Miranda Blake, sent me a message. “Chloe, come to Conference Room 3 immediately.”
When I pushed open the door to Conference Room 3, Bella was sitting on the sofa by the window. Her face was paper-white, and her eyes were swollen as if she had cried all night. Sitting next to her was her husband. Marcus Vance. In my past life, this man leaked my home address online and screamed at the camera, calling me a baby killer. To raise money for the settlement, my father went to the bank to beg for a loan. He suffered a massive heart attack and collapsed right outside the bank doors. Later, Marcus said in his live stream: “I just wanted justice for my child. I didn’t know her father would die.” He didn’t know. How convenient. Miranda sat at the head of the table with several documents in front of her. “Chloe, Bella has reported you for severe workplace bullying and abusive management behavior.” I pulled out a chair and sat down. “Be specific.” Hearing this, Bella immediately burst into tears. “Chloe, I really didn’t want things to come to this.” I looked at her. “Then you don’t have to make a scene.” Her crying caught in her throat. Marcus slammed his hand on the table. “My wife just had a miscarriage, and this is your attitude?!” I looked at him. “A miscarriage is tragic. But tragedy is not evidence of a crime.” “You—!” Miranda frowned. “Mr. Vance, please calm down first.” Then, she slid a medical report over to me. “Bella had vaginal bleeding two nights ago. The hospital diagnosed it as a natural miscarriage following embryonic demise.” I flipped the page. It was written clearly there. Embryonic demise. The baby had stopped developing. I put the paperwork back on the desk. “So, what does that have to do with me?” Bella covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking violently as she sobbed. “You didn’t go to the archives with me that day, but the night before, you forced me to revise the project proposal until midnight!” “You also said in the breakroom that my pregnancy made me a drag on the team.” “You said if I had any decency, I would voluntarily drop out of the selection for the European relocation.” She looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears. “My stomach was already hurting then, but I was too scared to say anything. I didn’t want you to think I was just being dramatic.” Marcus roared with bloodshot eyes, “How can you treat a pregnant woman like this? Are you even human?!” Miranda looked at me. “Chloe, did you make Bella work overtime during her pregnancy?” “No.” “Did you use abusive language to trigger her?” “No.” “Did you exclude and target her because of the competition for the European relocation?” I laughed. “Miranda, are you investigating, or are you helping her rehearse her testimony?” Miranda’s face darkened. “Watch your tone, Chloe. The company is dealing with a major incident involving a pregnant employee’s miscarriage. As the project lead, you must cooperate.” “I will cooperate.” I turned on my phone’s voice recorder. “Please continue. I need a record of this too.” Miranda stared at my phone, her frown deepening. “Chloe, internal company discussions are not to be recorded.” “Then please send me a formal written notice.” She was speechless. Bella sobbed, “Chloe, why do you have to be like this? I just lost my baby. I’m not trying to ruin you.” I looked at her. “Then why is every single word out of your mouth pointing the finger at me?” The glass doors of the conference room weren’t soundproof. Soon, notifications started popping up in our office gossip chats. My phone kept buzzing. I screenshotted every single one of them. Miranda placed a temporary suspension notice in front of me. “Effective immediately, your authority as project lead is suspended.” I asked, “Before the investigation is even finished, you’re already handing out punishments?” Miranda said coldly, “This is risk control.” Risk control. In my past life, they used those two words to reduce me from a human being to trash. “Fine,” I stood up. “Please send this via email. Copy Legal, Compliance, and me.” Marcus sneered, “Still thinking about suing the company?” I stared at him. “If anyone defames me, covers up the truth, or passes judgment before a proper trial, I won’t let a single one of them off the hook.” Bella’s crying quieted down. But I saw it. Behind the tissue covering her face, the corners of her mouth curved up slightly.
By afternoon, the company’s anonymous online forum was on fire. The post didn’t mention my name. But every keyword—department, project, relocation, pregnant, miscarriage—hit me right in the face. The comment section exploded faster than a powder keg. I screenshotted the thread from the first page to the last. Ten minutes later, my access to the project management system was revoked. Tyler Carter was now listed as the lead for the European Energy Grid Project. My application status for the European relocation turned gray. I stared at the screen. I felt absolutely nothing. I had already walked this path once in my past life. Except back then, I was desperately trying to explain myself, begging people to check the security cameras, trying to prove to every colleague that I didn’t push her. But they only asked me one thing: “Bella wouldn’t lie about losing her baby, would she?” But yes, she would. In the evening, Emma Jenkins walked over with my coffee mug. She placed it on the corner of my desk and said softly, “Chloe, maybe you shouldn’t leave your mug in the breakroom for the next few days.” I looked up. “Why?” Embarrassment flashed across her face. “Everyone’s a bit tense right now. You know… the miscarriage thing. It’s a very sensitive topic.” “So even my mug is toxic now?” She bit her lip. “That’s not what I meant.” Tyler spun around in his chair. “Chloe, can you stop being so aggressive? Bella lost her baby. Is it so wrong for everyone to be a little cautious?” I looked at him. “Are you afraid my mug will make you miscarry too?” His face flushed red. “You’re twisting my words!” “Then explain to me why my personal belongings can’t be in the common area.” The office suddenly fell dead silent. Because everyone always preferred to stand on the side that felt safer. At 7:00 PM, Miranda called me into the conference room again. This time, a “Mutual Separation Agreement” was laid out on the table. Severance pay: Zero. Confidentiality clauses: Twelve. After scanning through it, I looked up at her. “Miranda, is this a separation agreement or a hush-money contract?” Miranda was expressionless. “The company is offering you a way to leave with dignity.” “Zero severance is what you call dignity?” “If you don’t sign, Bella’s family will sue you. The company will also terminate your contract based on our investigation. It won’t look good on your resume.” She paused, softening her tone. “Chloe, you’re talented. It won’t be hard for you to start fresh at another company.” In my past life, I believed her. I thought if I just left the company, everything would blow over. But the moment I left, the company pinned all the blame on me. Bella and Marcus used my signature on the agreement to claim that I “admitted my guilt out of fear.” During the lawsuit, that very agreement became one of the final nails in my coffin. This time, I pushed the agreement back. “I’m not signing.” Miranda narrowed her eyes. “Chloe, don’t burn your bridges.” I smiled slightly. “I didn’t burn the bridge. You guys are trying to push me off it.” As I walked out of the conference room, I saw Marcus talking on the phone at the end of the hallway. He was shouting. “Yeah, she refuses to apologize.” “My wife might never be able to get pregnant again.” “This abusive manager needs to be exposed to the public!” He saw me and glared at me with pure venom. I took out my phone and tapped the record button right in front of his face. “Keep talking.” His face froze. I walked right past him. Behind me, Bella started sobbing again. It felt like a perfectly rehearsed play.
The next morning, my cubicle had been cleared out. I stood there, staring at it for a long time. Emma came out of the breakroom. Seeing me, her face turned pale. “Chloe, I didn’t do this.” I asked, “Who touched my things?” She stammered, “Everyone was just worried that the media might come and take photos. They didn’t want people saying the company doesn’t care about pregnant employees, so they packed up the… controversial items first.” Controversial items. My mug. My pens. The small plant on my desk. Everything of mine had become “controversial.” Tyler walked out of a meeting room and said coldly, “Chloe, are you really going to make a fuss about this now? Bella is literally sobbing in her hospital bed right now.” I turned to him. “So that gives you the right to go through my stuff?” “I didn’t touch your stuff!” “Then who did?” He went quiet. I took my things out of the cardboard box, piece by piece, and put them back where they belonged. At 10:00 AM, a company-wide email was sent out. Subject: “Mandatory Training on Pregnancy Protection and Workplace Ethics.” It was scheduled for 2:00 PM in the main auditorium. Attendance was mandatory for all staff. I stared at the email, my finger resting on the mouse. In my past life, the company had also put me on public trial in the main auditorium. They called it “corporate values alignment.” But it was actually a public execution. At 1:55 PM, I walked into the auditorium. A sign with my name on it was taped to the center seat of the very front row. It was a custom-made defendant’s box just for me. Whispers erupted behind me. “She actually showed up.” “Bella is in the hospital, and she’s walking around like nothing happened.” “How thick-skinned can you get?” “If I were her, I would have resigned already.” I sat down, started my phone’s voice recorder, and synced the file to my cloud storage. On the stage, Miranda stood in a sharp black suit. The giant screen behind her read: “Caring for Pregnant Employees, Upholding Workplace Standards.” She picked up the microphone, her voice filled with heavy solemnity. “Recently, a regrettable incident involving an employee’s health occurred at our office.” “According to our preliminary findings, certain management staff showed unprofessional communication, unreasonable task allocation, and a severe lack of empathy toward a pregnant colleague.” She didn’t say “allegedly.” She didn’t say “pending investigation.” Her gaze fell directly on me. “The company has decided to suspend Chloe Miller from her role as project lead.” “Her nomination for the European relocation is revoked.” “Her annual stock options are frozen.” “We will proceed with the termination of her employment contract in accordance with the final investigation results.” A collective gasp echoed through the auditorium. Someone whispered, “Termination makes sense.” “They didn’t fire her immediately. The company is being pretty merciful.” Miranda continued, “At the same time, the company hopes Chloe Miller will reflect on her actions, issue a formal apology to Bella and her family, and take full responsibility.” As she finished speaking, Marcus helped Bella stand up from her seat. They walked slowly toward the stage. “Miranda, may I say a few words?” Bella asked. Miranda nodded. Bella faced the audience, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t want to ruin Chloe.” “She is highly capable, and I’ve always looked up to her.” “Maybe the project stress was just too high, which is why she said those things to me and gave me those tasks.” She covered her lower belly, her body trembling with sobs. “But my baby is gone.” “If she is willing to sincerely apologize to my lost child, I will not pursue this further.” She stood on the stage like a saintly victim. And I had already been nailed to the cross of guilt. Before the applause could even die down, I stood up. Miranda’s face darkened instantly. “Chloe, this is not an open Q&A session.” I pulled out my phone. “Then I’ll dial 911 and let the police listen to this.” Her expression changed. The head of the Legal department in the front row quickly stood up, walked over to Miranda, and whispered a few words in her ear. Miranda stared at me, her eyes like daggers. I met her gaze. A few seconds later, she said coldly, “You have five minutes.” I plugged my phone into the projector system. The folder name flashed onto the giant screen: “The Saintly Victim’s Playbook.” I clicked open. First to appear on the screen was a contact list with notes. The first line read: “Sugar Daddy Charles.” Underneath it, there were seven more names. Bella’s face drained of all color instantly. The tissue in her hand slipped and fell to the stage floor.
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