Chapter 2

The next day when I walked into the office, the strange atmosphere hit me instantly.

Coworkers whispering in the breakroom fell silent and scattered the moment they saw me enter.

People passing by in the hallway gave me scrutinizing, slightly disdainful looks.

I knew what was happening. Mandy’s smear campaign had been thorough.

Sure enough, barely after I sat down at my desk, the office phone rang. It was our department director, Mr. Warren.

"Kylie, come to my office."

His tone gave nothing away, but I knew it couldn't be anything good.

I tidied my desk, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door to the director's office.

Mandy was already there, her eyes rimmed with red. Sitting on the couch, her shoulders were trembling with quiet sobs.

That was fast, I thought.

Mr. Warren sat across from her, frowning deeply. When he saw me enter, he gestured to a chair on the opposite side.

"Sit."

I sat down calmly, not sparing Mandy a single glance.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Warren?"

Mr. Warren cleared his throat, putting on a professional, bureaucratic tone.

"Kylie, I heard about what happened with you and Mandy."

He paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

"We're all coworkers here. We see each other every single day. Making a scene over a purse like this reflects poorly on everyone."

Hearing this, Mandy’s sobs grew louder. She choked out through her tears:

"Mr. Warren, it's not that I wanted to make a scene! She pushed me too far!"

"I treated her like a friend, and she sold me a counterfeit! How am I ever supposed to trust anyone again?"

I didn't rush to defend myself. I just looked at Mr. Warren, waiting for him to continue.

"Kylie, how about this?" Mr. Warren offered, playing the peacemaker. "You refund Mandy her money, and you deal with the bag yourself. We'll consider this matter closed, and everyone can go back to being good teammates."

I sneered internally.

This wasn't mediation; he was flat-out telling me to admit I sold a fake and take the blame.

"Mr. Warren," I finally spoke, my voice calm but crystal clear. "First, I did not sell a fake. I have all the original receipts and proof of purchase."

"Second, it's not that I refuse to return it; she smashed the original packaging, which makes it ineligible for a return."

"Third, if Mandy insists it's a counterfeit, I suggest she call the police, or take it to the brand's official boutique for authentication."

"If the official evaluation proves it's a fake, I will take full legal responsibility and compensate her double her loss."

When I finished, silence fell over the office.

Mr. Warren’s frown deepened. He clearly hadn't expected me to be so "uncooperative."

Mandy’s face flickered for a split second before she jumped up, pointing a finger right in my face.

"You still dare mention authentication? You just know I won't bother with the hassle! Kylie, you are truly wicked!"

"Whether you authenticate it or not is your choice," I met her gaze evenly. "But you don't get to slander me out of thin air."

"Slander you?" She scoffed, as if hearing the biggest joke in the world. "Everyone in the office knows your family isn't wealthy. Where did you get the money for a luxury vacation abroad?"

"I bet you just used personal shopping as an excuse to run a counterfeit hustle!"

Her words were getting completely out of hand, escalating into direct personal attacks.

The temperature in the office plummeted to freezing.

Mr. Warren’s expression darkened, and he coughed heavily.

"Mandy! Watch your language!"

Choked by his reprimand, Mandy shrank back onto the couch with teary eyes.

A few seconds of silence hung in the air. Mr. Warren rubbed his temples, seemingly weighing his options.

Then he turned to me, his exhaustion morphing into a trace of irritation.

"Kylie, I know you feel wronged. But this situation is already affecting team cohesion."

"Just do me a favor. Take a step back, give her the refund, and let's put this behind us, alright?"

He was using his authority as my boss to pressure me.

I looked at him, then at Mandy beside him, weeping crocodile tears while hiding a gleam of triumph in her eyes.

I understood now. They didn't care about the truth at all.

They just wanted the easiest, most convenient resolution.

And that resolution meant throwing me under the bus.

My heart sank, but my spine straightened even more.

"Mr. Warren, I can't agree to that."

I stood up, looking at the two of them.

"This isn't about compromising; this is a matter of principle. I will never admit to something I didn't do."

"If the company believes my actions have disrupted the team, I welcome any formal investigation."

"But making me apologize and pay for a mistake I didn't make? I won't do it."

With that, I gave Mr. Warren a slight nod, turned on my heel, and walked out of the office.

The moment the door clicked shut, I could still hear Mandy’s shrill crying and Mr. Warren’s impatient attempts to placate her.

I didn't stop. I walked straight back to my cubicle.

I knew that doing this meant burning bridges with my director.

But compared to taking the blame for a fraud, I could afford the career risk.

Back at my desk, I turned on my computer, ignoring the curious stares coming from every direction.

I sent Mandy a formal internal email titled: "Regarding the Dispute Over the Limited-Edition Handbag."

In the email, I laid out all the facts once again, attaching scanned copies of the store receipt, customs declaration, and credit card statement.

At the same time, I clearly stated two solutions:

Either she restored the packaging so I could assist with the return, or she pursued official authentication through the brand, in which case I would take full responsibility if it proved to be fake.

Finally, I cc'd our department director, Mr. Warren, and the HR department.

Since you wanted to sweep this under the rug, I was going to drag it into the broad daylight.