Chapter 3

As I had to haul my scooter to the repair shop, I was late for work again.

Linda made a point of strutting past my desk, her voice dripping with fake concern.

"Oh, Katie, this is bad! You're only in your first month of probation, and you've been late for almost a whole week! When review time comes around and you don't get hired full-time, don't blame me!"

My jaw clenched so hard my back teeth ached. God, I hated her.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from the mechanic, Dave.

Dave the Mechanic: [Katie, did someone mess with your scooter battery?]

Me: [What? No!]

Dave sent over a photo of the battery compartment.

Dave the Mechanic: [Katie, this battery doesn't match your scooter at all. Every scooter has a unique serial number tied to its battery. This counts as illegal tampering.]

[You can't ride this thing, it's a legit fire hazard now. If it explodes, your insurance won't cover a single cent. The connection port looks brand new though. If you can get your original battery back, I can swap it back in for you.]

A single image flashed in my head: Linda.

The way she had zoomed past me on the road this morning, flying down the street. She had definitely stolen my battery.

Gripping my phone, I stormed straight into the admin office.

Linda was holding a cup of coffee, gloating to a group of coworkers about her shiny new ride.

"Linda! Did you swap out my scooter battery?"

Her laughter cut short, and she spun around to face me. "What battery? I have no idea what you're talking about."

I didn't bother wasting breath on her lies. I pulled up the text with Dave and thrust the screen in front of her face.

"The mechanic just took it apart and took these photos! Someone swapped my battery! My scooter used to get seventy miles on a single charge, and now it barely gets twenty-five!"

Linda set her coffee cup down and casually crossed her legs. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"I lent you my scooter in perfect condition, and it came back like this! How does that have nothing to do with you?"

She chuckled, twirling a curl of her frizzy hair around her finger. "Katie, you need proof before you run your mouth. Did you actually see me touch your battery with your own two eyes? Your junk vehicle got tampered with, so you're trying to pin it on me?"

Rage trembled through my limbs. "Do you have any idea how dangerous illegal battery modifications are? It could literally explode!"

"Then let it explode!" She shrugged, her face showing total apathy. "Not my ride, not my problem."

"You..."

I gripped my phone, my voice shaking with fury.

"Fine! I'm calling the police! I'll have them inspect your scooter! Every battery has a matching serial number! If they prove you stole mine, I’ll personally make sure you get thrown in jail, you thief!"

A flicker of genuine panic flashed across her eyes.

"Go ahead, call them! You always threaten to call the police over every little thing!"

My thumb hovered over the call button.

Then, a loud cough echoed from the doorway.

"What’s all this noise about?"

I turned around. It was Nathan Collins, our CEO.

Linda's expression flipped in a split second, casting herself as a victim.

"Mr. Collins, you came at the perfect time! Katie keeps insisting I stole her scooter battery! Why would I need to touch her rundown old piece of junk when I just bought a brand-new one? Her vehicle broke down, so why is she taking it out on me?"

She let out a heavy sigh, dabbing at her eyes.

"Younger employees these days have no respect. Anything goes wrong, and they immediately scapegoat me. I'm honestly exhausted..."

I squeezed my phone, my teeth grinding together.

"Mr. Collins, my battery was genuinely stolen and replaced. The mechanic inspected the entire vehicle..."

In a few quick sentences, I laid out the facts.

Mr. Collins glanced at my text messages, then turned to look at Linda, who was putting on a full waterworks display. His expression darkened.

"Katie. In my office. Right now."

I followed Mr. Collins out the door. As I passed her, Linda silently mouthed two words, a smug sneer playing on her lips: “You’re screwed.”