Jagged shards sliced into my arm. Blood ran down my wrist and seeped into my white glove, spreading into a wide crimson stain.
Otto saw the blood. A flicker of panic crossed his face. His hand hung in midair, as if he wanted to pull me up.
Davina wailed from the floor. "Otto, call the police! I want her arrested! I'll make sure she never works in this industry again!"
Otto yanked his hand back immediately, turned, and gathered Davina into his arms with exaggerated tenderness.
I braced myself against the wall and straightened up slowly. I didn't look at the wound on my arm.
I shoved the crumpled receipt into my pocket and picked up my organizing toolkit from the floor.
"No need to call the police." My voice was eerily calm. "The company can deduct the penalty from my paycheck."
I stepped past them both and walked out of that house built on lies.
That evening, a video shot to the top of the local trending page.
Davina was sobbing on her livestream, tears streaming prettily down her face, accusing a top-rated organizer from a high-end home organization company of stealing. According to her, I'd damaged a bag worth over thirty thousand dollars and then physically attacked her.
She didn't just show my employee badge on camera. She also posted a security screenshot of me leaving the building with blood running down my arm, claiming I'd fallen while fleeing out of guilt.
The backlash that comes from an influencer with tens of millions of followers is devastating.
My phone was flooded with dozens of hateful messages every second.
"Are you that desperate for money? If you can't afford it, you steal it and trash it?"
"Bottom-feeding trash like you deserves to be blacklisted!"
My landlord called and ordered me to move out by tonight. Some of Davina's more extreme fans had tracked down my address and splashed red paint across the hallway.
My boss posted a termination notice directly in the company group chat and demanded I cover the cost of brand reputation damages.
I sat in my apartment with the lights off, listening to someone pounding on the door.
My phone screen lit up. A message from Otto:
"Joan, Davina has a temper. This blowing up isn't good for you. Just swallow your pride and apologize to her. I'll transfer you an extra twenty grand as compensation. Stop being stubborn."
I stared at the message. A cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.