Chapter 2

This time, I didn't rush out from behind the desk to help Crystal.

Everything was already in place.

Before she arrived, I brought a folding ladder out of the utility room and carried it to the lobby entrance.

I looked up at the security camera, where the trouble started. The camera pointed out toward the street to catch anyone trying to slip in, leaving the entire stretch from the glass doors to the elevator in a blind spot.

Once someone came inside, it caught little more than a blurry glimpse of their back.

In my previous life, that blurry glimpse was what ruined me.

I tilted the camera inward and adjusted it until I could see everything from the glass doors to the elevator lobby and card reader. Every floor tile was in view.

Then I moved the ladder beneath the camera in the elevator lobby.

That camera was aimed at the card reader, making it hard to see where people stood, whether they leaned against the wall, or if anyone touched them.

I adjusted it as well, until the entire elevator lobby was in the frame.

The camera inside the elevator didn't need any work. It faced the doors and clearly captured everyone who stepped inside.

I climbed down and headed back toward the entrance, checking the feeds on the monitor several times.

All three cameras now gave me continuous coverage from the entrance to the elevator, with no blind spots.

As a security guard, I was responsible for those cameras. Adjusting them to capture what actually happened was part of my job, and I wanted footage no one could pick apart.

By now, Crystal was slumped over the desk, reeking of alcohol. She squinted at me and smiled.

"Hey… Could you give me a hand?"

Her words came out sweet and slurred. She sagged against the desk, as though she might slide to the floor at any moment.

In my previous life, I would've reached for her by now.

This time, I kept my hands beneath the desk and closed my fingers around a folding stainless steel cane.

Management kept it in the bottom compartment for elderly residents who had trouble walking. I unfolded it and held it out to her, keeping a full three feet between us.

"Here. Lean on this and take it slow."

She went still for a second, apparently surprised that I offered her a cane instead of an arm. But she could barely stand, and she instinctively reached for it.

As soon as she took hold of the cane, I let go and stepped back behind the desk.

She leaned on it as she made her way to the elevator lobby, then swiped her card and stepped into the elevator on her own.

I watched the timestamp in the bottom-right corner of the monitor. From the moment she came through the entrance until the elevator doors closed, exactly 39 seconds passed.

Throughout those 39 seconds, I stayed at least 3 feet away from her. My fingers never even brushed her clothes.

Only when the elevator doors closed did I let out a breath.

Still, I knew this wasn't over.

In my previous life, she made up the entire story about the emergency stairwell. Even though I never laid a finger on her this time, she could still make up whatever story she wanted.

The truth never mattered to her. She wanted views, and an honest, unsuspecting security guard like me was an easy way to get them.

I went back into the guard booth, took my phone from the drawer, and exported all three recordings from that night in full. I didn't cut a second or alter a single frame.

This time, I wouldn't beg anyone to speak up for me. I would make sure my side of the story came from people they would believe.