Chapter 3
I looked at her.
Ten years gone, and I'm not the same person she remembered.
I cut my long hair short—made it easier to deal with the tough job.
Three years as a test subject messed up my liver and gallbladder, so my skin stayed dry and yellowish all the time.
Even my face had changed—sharper, harder, with all the old softness long gone.
She stared at me for a long moment, then stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
"In three days, I'll be waiting for you to come crawling to me, begging for my approval," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.
I listened as the sound of her high heels faded into the distance, a smirk slowly spreading across my face.
'Beg her?' I thought to myself, amused.
'Who'll end up begging whom? That's still up in the air,' I mused.
After closing the door, I shot a text to my best friend—the one who's a lawyer—and gave her the rundown.
She hit me back almost right away.
[Your in-laws passed away five years ago, and your husband's been wiped from the records as legally dead.]
[Legally, that factory should be yours, and the payout should go straight to you.]
[But if he manages to get his identity back, you won't get a dime.]
[Have you thought it through? Maybe you should negotiate with him—money in hand is the only thing that really counts.]
I just scoffed.
With total confidence, I fired back:
[Relax, there's no way he's getting his identity back.]
[Can you help me look into something?]
Thirty million dollars.
He's not getting away with it—I won't let him walk away for nothing.
Right after, I called the demolition office to check my eligibility.
Once I confirmed I was entitled to the compensation, I grabbed my ID and marriage certificate and rushed over.
I beat Charles to it and got my name on the list before he could even show up.
That afternoon, Charles and Tina dropped a video on their channel.
The title was: "How Hard It Is for Regular Folks to Get Anything Done."
They didn't mention the demolition at all—just whined about getting hassled at the records window.
They snuck footage of me, muted my voice, and slapped a mosaic over my face.
But they still called out where I worked.
As soon as the video went up, people were all over it, totally feeling their pain.
In just two hours, it blew up—over 100,000 views and hundreds of comments.
Everyone was roasting me for being unhelpful and making things hard on purpose.
When I got back from the demolition office, I was immediately called into the director's office.
Charles and Tina were already there.
Henry King, our director, was standing by the window with his hands clasped behind his back. As soon as I walked in, his expression turned stone-cold.
"Ms. Smith, people online are saying we're treating folks badly," Henry said, his tone stern.
"What's your take on this?"
My phone buzzed.
It was a text from an unknown number.
[You could've played nice, but now you're asking for trouble.]
[See? If you'd just signed off earlier, none of this would be happening.]
Tina sat across from me, giving me a defiant look.
I calmly straightened my skirt.
"I've made my position clear," I said, my tone steady and unwavering.
Charles let out a cold snort, then shot a look at Henry.
"Look, it's not like we don't want to delete the video. The problem is, someone here just won't play ball," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Henry looked totally stressed out as he poured me a cup of tea.
"You've got the residency certificate and the DNA test—aren't all the documents in order?" he asked, frustration clear in his voice.
"So why won't you issue the identity certificate?"
"Isn't that just you making things hard for them on purpose?"
I was confident and didn't bother to explain myself.
"Mr. King, I've got my own reasons for this," I said, keeping my tone steady.
"All I'm doing is sticking to the residency laws."
Tina sprang up, furious, jabbing the tiny camera in her hand right at me.
"Smith, don't think you can walk all over me just because I'm being civil!" she spat.
"You're just a clerk—if this goes viral, you'll be out of a job before you know it!"
With that, she grabbed Charles and stormed out.
Before leaving, she shot me a glare over her shoulder. "This isn't over."
"We'll see who comes out on top!"
"Let's see if the internet can take you down before you can hide behind your desk!"
After they left, Henry was so pissed he slammed his thermos down.
"Autumn, what the hell are you trying to pull?" he snapped.
"Don't you realize how much everyone cares about public opinion these days?"
"One complaint and our whole office loses all our bonuses."
"If this blows up any more, you might not even have a job here anymore."
I stood up calmly and shot him a small, confident smile.
"Mr. King, I don't think this is big enough yet," I said, my tone cool and steady.
"I say, let it blow up even more."