Chapter 4

I shot Jessica a glare, snorting at her smug attitude.

I said, "I'm going to let Mr. Smith know exactly what you've been up to. Let's see if you can still keep that smug smile on your face then."

I marched straight back to my desk, ready to start writing up my daily log.

Jessica was hot on my heels, planting herself right in front of my desk, her gaze sharp and threatening.

She said, "I'm warning you—if you breathe a word of this to Mr. Smith, I'll make sure you lose everything you've got."

Without even looking up, I muttered, "Whatever," turning my attention elsewhere and not giving her another thought.

Jessica stormed off, shooting me a look that could kill before leaving.

Ryan blew up my phone, calling over a dozen times before I finally picked up, completely fed up.

As soon as I answered, he was already shouting at me.

He snapped, "Emily, seriously, why couldn't you just agree to what Jessica asked for? Her request is simple—don't tell me you can't handle it.

"You actually made her cry. Go apologize to her, right now, and make this your problem to fix."

What Ryan called "simple" struck me as so absurd I almost laughed—apparently, a few children's lives weighed nothing in their eyes.

My face turned serious as I said, "If it's really so simple, why don't you take the blame for her?"

Ryan went quiet for a moment, couldn't even bring himself to say "yes."

I snorted coldly, firing his own words right back at him. I said, "If it's such a piece of cake, why can't you do it? It's just a couple of dead bodies, right? Why don't you cover for Jessica if it's really no big deal?"

Ryan angrily hung up the phone, and I just rolled my eyes, completely done with his nonsense.

No wonder Jessica and Ryan had made such perfect partners in my previous life—both were experts at spending other people's lives to buy their own nobility.

Moments later, another coworker, Lucy, rushed over, practically out of breath, blurting, "Mr. Smith wants to see you—right now."

She was still catching her breath, her worried eyes locked on me.

She said, "Emily, some of the kids' parents are here making a huge fuss. Word is you took their children to the hospital—think they're here to give you hell?

"Mr. Smith was looking seriously pissed. You'd better be extra careful. When things get messy, saying sorry first is usually the safest move."

Linda shot me a look and said, "This could be your last day at this job."

Lucy's warning didn't really faze me.

After all, I was the one who carried the trampled children to the ambulance, and the real culprit was someone else entirely; I had no reason to fear reprisal.

Peter, moreover, had always been fair and methodical—he would never condemn anyone without solid proof.

I sneered, "You really think Mr. Smith is just going to listen to one side? That's nothing but wishful thinking."

I barely set foot into Peter's office before his furious voice boomed out at me.

He barked, "Emily, you're done here—quit, right now. Someone as high and mighty as you doesn't belong in our place.

"After everything—the lives you've cost—and now you seriously want Jessica to take the blame for your mess? Don't you even feel a shred of shame?"