Chapter Four

Just like the last time, Lisa’s voice cut through the air casually. “Wanna head out? I’m kinda over it.”

I smiled, heart pounding—not with fear, but anticipation. “Sure.”

We strolled toward the mall’s entrance, sunlight spilling in from the large glass doors. And then—just as I remembered—the sharp, blaring wail of the security alarm pierced through the air. Heads turned. Conversations halted.

I feigned surprise, furrowing my brows in confusion and concern, glancing around as if the sound couldn’t possibly have anything to do with me. But of course, it had everything to do with me. Or at least, it was supposed to.

“Ma’am,” one of the security guards said as he stepped in front of us, palm up, voice firm, “I’m going to need to search your bag.”

My eyes widened in careful measure.

Maybe it was the way we were dressed. I’d thrown on something simple—a black tee and old jeans, my hair pulled into a lazy ponytail. Lisa, on the other hand, looked like she belonged in the pages of a glossy magazine. Cream-toned blouse, gold accents, a designer tote slung over her shoulder. 

So they overlooked her. Again.

“What? I didn’t steal anything.”

“We have to check, please,” he repeated, motioning for me to hand it over.

I clutched my bag to my chest instinctively, then hesitated, like someone with nothing to hide but everything to lose. I could feel Lisa shift beside me, just out of reach, just like last time—still untouched, unbothered.

“I don’t understand,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Why am I being searched? I’m very sure I didn’t steal anything.”

The guard doesn't budge. “We just need to follow protocol, ma’am. If you have nothing to hide, this won’t take long.”

I feel my throat tighten. Just like last time. I already know how this goes.

“If you have concerns, why don’t you check the cameras?” I add, a little louder, letting my desperation seep through, just enough to draw attention. “They’ll show I didn’t take anything.”

That’s when she speaks.

Lisa.

She steps forward, her voice light and laced with false concern. “Anna… why don’t you just let them search you?” She gives a tiny, theatrical shrug. “It’s not like you have anything to be scared of…”

She stops—right there, right before the sentence can end.

Then she gasps softly, eyes widening as if she’s just realized something horrific. She quickly shuts her mouth, but the damage is already done.

I see the ripple start in the crowd.

“She must’ve taken something,” someone whispers behind me.

“Such a young girl, stealing like that…”

“What’s the world coming to? Greedy, spoiled little kids.”

“Doesn’t she have shame? Her parents must be mortified.”

“Look at how worried her friend is. She definitely did it.”

Each comment slices into me like a fresh wound, even though I know this is all part of the plan. It still hurts. The memories are too close to the surface.

But I don’t relent. Not this time.

Because this time, I want more people to gather.

I want her fall to be big.

Loud.

Public.

Lisa’s downfall will be so much worse than mine ever was.

And for once, she won’t be able to hide behind silence and perfect smiles.

I continue to argue for a bit, not loud or hysterical—just firm. Determined. But eventually, I relent, sighing shakily as the taunts from the crowd begin to sting.

“Just let them check,” someone mutters.

“She’s making it worse.”

“Guilty people always fight so hard.”

And that’s when I see it—one, two, three phones tilted just enough to catch the scene. A few surveillance domes blink red from above. Good. I wanted witnesses.

I swallow hard and hold out my bag with both hands, the act so familiar it makes my stomach twist. “Fine,” I say, voice low and trembling. “Check it.”

The guard nods, takes the bag gently, and begins searching through it.

Nothing.

The crowd murmurs. Confused. Suspicious.

Lisa turns pale.

I see it happen in slow motion—her lips parting slightly, her eyes darting from the empty bag to me, then to the crowd, and back to the guards. She’s doing the math. Realising the pieces don’t add up. Not in her favour.

If the alarm had rung... and my bag was empty... then...

I raise an eyebrow, turning slowly to meet her gaze.

Her breath hitches.

The guard clears his throat. “There’s nothing here.”

I press a hand to my chest and subtly pinch the tender skin of my side until it stings enough to force out a few tears. My lip quivers just a little. The right amount of broken.

“I was humiliated,” I whisper, voice shaking. “And for what? I already told you I didn’t take anything.”

The sympathy washes over me like a tide.

“That poor girl.”

“She’s crying…”

“Maybe it was a mistake.”

“The alarm must’ve glitched.”

“Someone should apologize to her.”

I lower my head, letting the tears fall. I almost laugh through them, because it’s working. 

Lisa’s still frozen, probably praying no one suggests checking her bag next.

A tense silence settles over the group. The kind that makes your skin itch and your heart thud too loudly in your chest. Everyone's looking around, confused, uncertain. But mostly—they’re looking at me. Tear-streaked, trembling, violated. Innocent.

And then someone says it.

A woman with a designer purse and a sharp tongue.

“If the alarm went off and her bag was clean… shouldn’t you check the other girl’s too?”

Lisa’s head snaps to the side.

“I—I didn’t take anything,” she says quickly, her voice too high, too breathless.

“Well, neither did she,” the woman replies coolly, pointing to me. “But she still got searched. Seems only fair.”

The guards exchange glances. One of them nods and takes a step toward Lisa.

Panic flares across her face.

“Miss, do you mind if we take a look at your bag?” the guard asks, calm and professional.

Lisa holds it tighter to her chest for a second. A second too long. And the crowd doesn’t miss it.

“She’s hesitating.”

“Guilty as hell.”

“Check it already!”

Reluctantly, she hands over the bag. Her eyes dart to mine, wide and pleading now, searching for some sign of mercy.

But I just tilt my head and blink at her. Blank. Unforgiving.

"Don't worry; Its not like you have anything to be worried about." I parrot her words back at her. This was so satisfying.

The guard opens the bag slowly. Rummages through. And then stops.

His fingers close around something shiny.

He pulls it out.

The jewelry set.

The exact one she’d stared at longingly. The same one she slipped into my bag last time. The one that had ruined me.

Gasps ripple through the crowd like a wave.

“Oh my God.”

“It was her?!”

“And she let that poor girl take the fall?”

I don’t have to fake the tear that slips down my cheek this time. The vindication is overwhelming. Not sweet—no, it’s bitter, salty, burning. But it’s mine.

Lisa looks like she might collapse.

“I—I don’t know how that got in there,” she stammers.

Someone scoffs loudly. “Oh, please.”

The guard’s face hardens. “Miss, I’ll need you to come with me.”

“I swear, it’s not mine! She probably—she—” Lisa turns to me, eyes wild. “Anna, tell them. Tell them I wouldn’t—”

I blink at her. Slowly. Then look down, shoulders trembling.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper hoarsely. “Why would you say that?”

And just like that, her face crumples.

Game over.

The guards move to escort Lisa, but I step forward, my voice quiet, pleading. “Wait… please,” I say, my words trembling with the slightest hint of desperation. “It’s... it’s just a mistake, right?” I swallow hard, fighting the lump in my throat. “She doesn’t need to be arrested. She’s a good person... she wouldn’t have meant to do anything wrong.”

The crowd quiets, all eyes on me. For a moment, they seem almost hypnotised by the vulnerability in my voice. It’s strange—how quickly they turn from judgement to sympathy.

The guard glances at me, clearly surprised. “Miss, are you sure?”

I nod frantically, forcing a tear to slip down my cheek, my hand trembling as I gesture to Lisa. “Please, just let her go. She’s been through enough. We all make mistakes. Let’s just pretend this never happened.” I give him a shaky smile, the most saintly I can manage. “Please.”

For a brief second, the guard hesitates. I see it in his eyes—the flicker of indecision. But then, he sighs, as if deciding that the drama was enough for today, and turns to Lisa.

“Alright, Miss, we’ll let you off this time, but don’t let this happen again.”

Lisa looks at me, wide-eyed, stunned. The crowd murmurs—some with admiration for my selflessness, others with disbelief at my magnanimity. The tension in the air lifts, and people begin to whisper to each other, undoubtedly speculating on the unexpected kindness I’ve just shown.

“Thank you,” Lisa whispers under her breath, her face pale, her voice quivering.

I nod, holding her gaze for a moment. The weight of what had just transpired hangs heavy between us, but I don’t speak. The crowd begins to disperse, their opinions already forming about the situation. Some are still looking at me with a mixture of awe and relief, while others whisper about how lucky Lisa was to have someone like me to save her from the consequences.

If only they knew.