Chapter 1

In my past life, I received the same phone call.

I rushed to bring my best friend, Mia Sullivan, home after she claimed that a creep had been stalking her.

My dad, Zach Langley, and I lived in an old two-bedroom apartment. We only had each other.

To make Mia feel safe, I gave her my bedroom and slept on a foldable bed in the living room.

My dad felt sorry for her too. Every day, he cooked different meals for her and tried to help her get better.

But what did we get in return?

Two weeks later, a video spread all over the internet.

In the video, Mia showed large areas of bruising on her body. She cried as she accused my sixty-five-year-old dad, a man who had been honest and decent his entire life, of breaking into her room late at night to try and assault her.

It was a complete one-sided takedown.

In a time when making false accusations online cost people almost nothing, the internet erupted with outrage.

No one listened to our side of the story. Everyone ignored the police notice stating they could not file a case due to insufficient evidence.

People online dug up our personal information. Someone splashed red paint on our front door and filled the lock with super glue. My company received so many angry calls that I was eventually fired.

Still, nothing hurt me more than seeing what happened to my dad.

He was a retired middle school teacher who had spent his entire life being so reserved that he could not raise his voice without blushing. His pride and dignity mattered more than anything else.

When he faced countless accusations and saw the banner outside the senior activity center he loved that said, “Get this monster out of our community,” he broke down.

He developed severe depression.

One rainy day, while I was out searching for a lawyer, he ended his life by jumping from the rooftop.

When I arrived at the hospital, all I saw was the cold white sheet in the morgue and the blood on the floor that could not be washed away no matter how much I scrubbed.

Meanwhile, Mia used my dad’s suffering to her advantage. She took the “emotional trauma compensation” money she received through online crowdfunding and the money she forced me to pay as hush money.

Then, she used it to pay the down payment for her freeloading younger brother’s house back in their hometown.

“Charlotte? Are you listening? Charlotte, help me…”

On the other end of the phone, Mia’s sobbing voice pulled me back from my memories.

I took a deep breath and let cold air fill my lungs. Even I was surprised by how calm my voice sounded.

“Don’t panic. Where are you? Send me your location. I’ll take a cab there and pick you up.”

After hanging up, I smiled coldly in the darkness.

The show was about to begin.

Thirty minutes later, I found Mia outside a convenience store. She was shaking all over.

She threw herself into my arms like a frightened rabbit and cried. “Charlotte, I was so scared. That man was just standing at the entrance of the alley and staring at me…”

I patted her back. I used a little more force than I should have, and Mia instinctively flinched. “It’s okay now. Don’t waste your energy on a creep like that. Come stay at my place.”

When we entered the apartment, my dad came out after being woken up. He had a coat over his shoulders, and his face was full of concern. “Oh my, what happened? Why is Mia crying like this?”

In my past life, this was the moment I explained everything to my dad. He immediately felt sorry for her and said, “Treat this place like your own home.”