Chapter 1

During graduation season, I helped my roommates rent a four-bedroom apartment through my relative, only to be accused of pocketing a kickback.

They were apartment hunting, so I asked my relative to help secure a four-bedroom place. The rent was twenty-two hundred dollars a month with first month's rent and a one-month deposit, and the landlord promised not to raise the rent for three years.

That very afternoon, Chloe dropped a screenshot into our SnapChat group: "Westside Luxury Apartments, private bath, fifteen hundred all-inclusive."

Then she tagged me: "@Zoe, that beat-up old building you found costs twenty-two hundred. Pocketing a seven-hundred-dollar kickback, aren't you?"

The other two instantly chimed in. "Chloe, you're amazing! That value is insane!"

"Zoe, your relative is really ripping us off."

I didn't argue. I simply posted the deed, our messages, and a complete breakdown of utilities—zero markup, zero broker fees.

Chloe sent back a smirking emoji: "Nice Photoshop skills. Almost bought it." The other two followed suit with matching laughing emojis.

The next day, they sent their deposits straight to the landlord in the screenshot. The guy deleted his account and ghosted them immediately.

The group went dead silent.

Then Chloe began spamming my notifications: "Zoe, please help me. I have nowhere to live... Is that place of yours still available?"

"It is," I said. "Only after the scene you pulled, my relative changed his mind. He now demands first month's rent plus a two-month security deposit before signing."

I was stunned by the screenshot Chloe hurled into the chat.

It showed a pristine modern apartment, followed by an eye-catching caption:

"Westside Luxury Apartments. Fully furnished with private bath. $1,500 all-inclusive, free high-speed Wi-Fi."

The room in the photo looked bright and brand new, definitely sleeker than the place I had tracked down.

But the price was suspiciously cheap.

Just a few hours earlier, I had shared the good news in our four-person group chat.

Through my connections, I had locked down a four-bedroom place near downtown for twenty-two hundred a month, first month down and one month's security deposit.

It was an eight-minute walk to the subway station, and the landlord—my uncle Raymond—promised not to raise the rent for three years.

For four newly graduated girls on a tight budget, this was practically a miracle.

The chat had erupted with cheers back then.

"Zoe, you are literally the best! This location and price? I love you!"

"Long live Zoe! We're not going to end up homeless after all!"

Even Chloe had sent a heart emoji.

Seeing their praise, I had felt a warm glow inside.

To secure that lease, I had cashed in a massive family favor and even fronted a two-hundred-dollar holding deposit out of my own pocket.

My uncle had agreed to hold the apartment until the weekend for us to sign.

Everything had been arranged, and I was thrilled, thinking our four years of college friendship would continue in that cozy apartment. But Chloe's screenshot and follow-up tag were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

She asked me straight out in the chat: "Zoe, that dump you found costs twenty-two hundred. Pocketing a seven-hundred-dollar kickback, aren't you?"

I froze.

Our other two roommates, Mia and Harper, popped up right away.

Mia: "Holy crap, Chloe, you're incredible! The value on this is insane!"

Harper: "Zoe, your relative is pretty shady. Maybe we should just find a place ourselves."

They played off each other seamlessly, acting as if it were a proven fact that I was scamming them.

My heart sank, inch by inch.

I didn't bother arguing about how you get what you pay for.

I quietly uploaded a photo of my uncle's deed and screenshots of our text exchange discussing the rent.

The paper trail was undeniable: zero markup, zero finder's fees.

I had even broken down the shared utilities and maintenance costs; divided by four, each girl's share was cheaper than renting a standard private room anywhere in the city.

I thought the facts would speak for themselves.

The chat went quiet for a few minutes.

Then, Chloe sent a smirking emoji.

"Photoshop skills are getting so good these days. Almost bought it."

Mia and Harper immediately followed with a string of laughing emojis.

Just like that, they laughed the entire thing off.

I didn't reply again.

They were thoroughly convinced I was desperately scrambling to salvage a deal that earned me a kickback.

Meanwhile, they were basking in their own shrewdness, too proud to dignify my "clumsy act."

Throughout our four years of college, I genuinely gave them my whole heart.

I never expected that on the brink of graduation, faced with cold, hard reality, our trust would prove so paper-thin.

I locked my phone, sick of looking at the stinging messages.

Chloe and the others had probably already created a separate chat, eagerly planning their move into the "bargain" apartment.

And I was left looking like a fool.

Not only was I out of pocket, but I had dragged my name through the mud.

I texted my uncle, testing the waters:

"Raymond, could you... hold the apartment for a few more days? Something came up on my roommates' end."

He called back almost immediately, his voice warm and gentle.

"I can give you another week. You girls just graduated; finding a place isn't easy."

"I only offered that rate because of you, kiddo. Market rent around there is at least three grand."

"Are they finding it too pricey? If money's tight for you girls starting out, I could knock off another two hundred."

Hearing his genuine kindness made my nose sting.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said softly, "It's not about the money, Raymond. It's on my end."

After hanging up, I opened my laptop and instinctively typed "Westside Luxury Apartments" into the search bar.

What popped up wasn't an official rental listing, but a flood of forum warning threads.

"Exposing a shady subletter: Westside Apartments scam, takes deposit and blocks you!"

"Anyone else get scammed by 'Direct Landlord Mark'? Let's file a police report together!"

My heart skipped a beat as I clicked into one of the threads.

The playbook detailed in the post was nearly identical to Chloe's screenshot.

A so-called "luxury private bath," rent drastically below market rate, and a direct personal contact claiming to be the owner with "no middleman."

I took screenshots, planning to send them once everyone cooled down.

My finger hovered over the send button, then pulled back.

In their current state of mind, anything I said would be dismissed as a desperate cover-up.

I closed the window and decided to stay quiet for now.

Yet that very afternoon, Chloe proudly announced in the chat that she had already transferred the money. Before I could even speak, the deal was done.

Since they refused to trust me, reality would have to teach them a lesson.

I was no martyr; I wasn't about to beg people to believe me after they slandered my character.

With graduation upon us, human nature was proving fickle.

If I couldn't protect them, I had to protect myself first.