Chapter 5

"Harper, the police are here. They say someone filed a harassment and intimidation report against you. What's going on?"

Lily ran into my office, looking panicked, while I was organizing project reports.

Two officers were standing at the entrance of the conference room, looking strictly professional.

The stares from my coworkers made my back stiffen.

I followed them inside.

"Ms. Harper, we received a report that you have been engaging in persistent harassment and threatening behavior over a personal debt, disrupting the victim’s life."

"Was the report filed by Chloe?"

The two officers exchanged a look. "How did you know?"

"Because she owes me thirty-eight thousand dollars. I asked her to pay me back, and she called the cops."

The younger officer opened his notepad.

"The complainant provided some evidence—including records of you showing up at her apartment, public threats on social media, and screenshots where you threatened to put her in jail."

I was stunned.

"When did I ever threaten her on social media?"

He handed me his phone.

The screenshot showed an Instagram story. My profile picture, my handle.

The text read: *Some people think they can just get away with not paying back their debts. Don't blame me for being ruthless. Pay me back today, or I'll see you in court tomorrow.*

It was paired with a GIF of a hammer smashing a piggy bank.

I had never posted that.

Never.

"This isn't mine."

"Ms. Harper, the screenshot clearly shows your account."

"I can log into my account right now to show you—there is no such post in my archive or story highlights."

The older officer spoke up. "You could have posted it and deleted it immediately. We suggest you cooperate with our investigation, and we will verify the metadata later."

When I walked out of the conference room, the glares from my colleagues felt like needles.

Lily whispered from behind, "Harper... everyone is gossiping. They’re saying you hounded someone so badly they had to call the police."

I didn’t say anything.

I opened my phone and checked my account three times.

Nothing.

Post, screenshot, delete.

Three simple steps, taking less than ten seconds.

Chloe knew me too well. She knew I rarely posted on social media. She also knew that once she had a screenshot, she could delete the evidence and leave me with no way to prove my innocence.

I stood in the office hallway, staring out the window.

Then, I dialed a number.

*Stone & Associates Law Firm. Ethan Stone.*

"Ms. Harper, I understand your situation. How many promissory notes do you have left?"

"Two. One for $7,000 and one for $20,000. She literally ate the other two right in front of me."

He adjusted his glasses.

"The missing $11,000 note is tricky. But do you have the bank transfer records?"

"Yes, all done via online bank transfers and Venmo."

"What about the chat logs? Her exact words when asking for the money?"

I pulled up my phone. Every single time Chloe asked for money, her opening line was almost identical.

"Harper, save me."

"I’m breaking up with Wyatt. Please help."

"This is the last time, I promise."

Ethan scrolled through them one by one. A small, confident smile appeared on his face.

"Ms. Harper, you have a very good habit."

"What’s that?"

"You never delete your chat history."

He handed my phone back.

"Before 3:00 PM today, take all chat history, transfer screenshots, and the original promissory notes to a notary public for official evidence preservation. Also, screenshot her social media posts claiming you are a loan shark. That is defamation and also serves as evidence."

"Furthermore, regarding the police report—get a copy of your statement. If she acknowledged the debt in her statement to the police, she basically handed us the final nail in her coffin."

"And you mentioned she bought a house with this Wyatt guy?"

"Yes, a $70,000 down payment. Both names are on the deed."

"Perfect. I’ll run a title search on that property. I’ll look into the mortgage details and the source of the down payment."

He looked up at me as he wrote.

"Ms. Harper, brace yourself. If your money was used for that down payment, this case will be much more complicated than you think."

"But it will also be much more in your favor."

The sun was setting by the time I left the law firm.

I went straight to the notary public.

The process was smoother than I expected.

Three years of chat logs were downloaded, printed, and cataloged page by page. Eleven bank transfers. Two promissory notes. Six screenshots of Chloe’s smear posts. Thirty-four screenshots of mutual friends' comments. The fake screenshot she used for the police. The copy of the police report.

Everything was officially notarized.

A thick, blue-covered notary binder, 236 pages in total.

As I walked out, my phone buzzed. A text from Chloe.

"Harper, I’m so sorry. I was just too emotional the other day. Can you give me some time? I’ll pay you back slowly. Please, don't go to the notary."

It was followed by a hugging emoji.

I put the notary binder into my bag.

And texted back a single word.

"Go to hell."