Chapter 1

During our company's Family Day art gala, my coworker Wayne came to me, his eyes bloodshot.

"My son has leukemia. Please, put his painting in the prime centerpiece spot. Give him one last piece of joy in his life. I'm begging you."

My heart softened, and I swapped his son’s drawing into the center.

I never imagined the artwork was stolen straight off the internet until the original artist came knocking.

Wayne turned on me in front of the entire company: "Supervisor Evelyn insisted on displaying it! I tried to warn her!"

Our CEO fired me on the spot.

As I was carrying my box of belongings out of the building, a massive chandelier overhead gave way, crushing me to death.

When I opened my eyes again, Wayne was gripping my hands, sobbing hysterically:

"This is my boy's dying wish..."

I pulled my hands back and shoved a sheet of paper into his chest:

"Sign this liability waiver. You state this piece is one hundred percent original. If there's any plagiarism, you take full personal and legal responsibility."

"Supervisor Evelyn, what is this supposed to mean?"

His voice trembled. "My boy is only seven years old! He stayed up all night painting this. How could he possibly plagiarize?"

I stayed silent, pushing the document closer.

"You're insulting my child!"

His voice pitched higher, catching everyone’s attention. "He’s just an innocent kid! Who could he even copy from?"

I looked at him coldly. "It’s standard corporate procedure."

Wayne bit his lip, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I just want to make my sick kid smile. His chemotherapy is pure hell..." He sobbed, playing the tragic victim. "Do you really have to be this heartless?"

In my past life, this exact routine had fooled me.

I thought I was doing a good deed, but it ended up costing me my life.

I pulled the waiver back toward me.

"If you won't sign it, that's fine. Your piece will be displayed in the original submission order."

He froze.

"What did you say?"

"Per company policy, all featured showcase submissions must include a signed original work declaration," I stated with absolute professionalism. "Without a signature, it goes straight to the back."

Wayne’s face hardened instantly.

He wiped his tears, his volume shooting up.

"Evelyn, do you have a single shred of empathy left in you?"

I didn't answer.

"My son has leukemia! Are you made of stone?" He pointed a trembling finger right at my nose. "Are you even human?"

"These are the rules."

"Rules?" He scoffed bitterly. "There's room for basic human decency in this world! Are our company guidelines above human compassion?"

Before I could reply, heavy footsteps sounded behind me.

"What's going on here?"

Marcus Vance, our Department Director in charge of the event, strolled over with a coffee cup in hand.

"I could hear you two shouting from down the hall."

Wayne’s eyes welled up with tears in an instant. He lunged forward, grabbing Marcus’s forearm.

"Director Marcus, please! You have to talk some sense into her!" His voice cracked with manufactured anguish. "My boy is battling leukemia. All I wanted was to give his painting a prime spot to bring a little happiness into his final days. But Evelyn is demanding I sign a legal waiver, claiming it might be stolen art! He's seven! Who on earth would he steal from?"

Marcus frowned, shooting an annoyed glare at me. "Evelyn, this is out of line."

"Director Marcus, that's not what—"

"The man's kid is terminally ill. Show some damn flexibility," Marcus cut in. "We're hosting this showcase as an employee wellness perk. Why are you being so ridiculously rigid?"

Wayne nodded vigorously beside him, sniffling loudly.

I took a deep breath. "Director Marcus, did you already forget what happened to Logan in Sales last week?"

"He approved an unvetted piece of artwork for a client pitch. Turns out it was stolen. The original artist sued, the company paid fifty thousand dollars in damages, and Logan was fired that afternoon."

Marcus’s coffee cup froze mid-air.

"I was in the room when that happened. Logan claimed he trusted his team member. And that coworker turned on him the second the legal notice arrived." I stared straight into Wayne's eyes. "Company policy now strictly dictates: no unverified artwork on the centerpiece wall without a signed personal liability waiver."

Wayne’s face paled for a split second before flushing bright red with rage.

"My son did not steal it!" he shrieked. "He painted our family dog! It is one hundred percent his own work!"

"Then why is it so hard for you to sign your name?"

"Why should I?" he glared at me with pure venom. "Signing this means you don't trust me! You don't trust the father of a dying child!"

Marcus watched me, clearly disgusted by my 'heartlessness.'

Fresh tears spilled down Wayne’s cheeks.

"I just wanted the world to see what he made... before he's gone..." He covered his face, shoulders shaking dramatically.

Marcus sighed in exasperation. "Evelyn, it's a minor detail. Stop turning this into a federal case."

"Director Marcus, I'm protecting company protocol," I countered. "No signature, no centerpiece. Mr. Sterling personally signed off on this rule."

Wayne snapped his head up. His tears were still dripping, but his gaze was dripping with malice.

"You're just jealous of me, aren't you, Evelyn?"