An old man waved his passbook at me, demanding I transfer his $3 million. The recipient? An offshore shell company—a classic scam. "I can't do this!" I slammed his passbook down. "Sir, just wait five minutes—" "Don’t ruin my fortune!" he snapped. I called the police and stopped the transfer. Furious, he turned on me: "She’s after my money! Waiting for me to die!" Tabloids twisted his words, fueling a viral hate storm. I begged my coworker Ava to defend me—instead, she testified against me: "She stuffed her underwear in his pocket!" Branded a gold-digger, even my husband Jonny left me. Broken, I jumped from the bridge. Then I woke up—back at my teller window, on that day again... 1 “Next customer, please!” The mechanical voice sent a jolt through my entire body. I snapped my head up. The screen above glowed with the number “023,” and standing before me was an old man with thinning, gray hair. Mr. Davies. The man who had orchestrated my ruin and death was now scowling at me through the bulletproof glass. My breath caught. For a moment, my heart felt like it would hammer its way out of my chest. This wasn’t a dream. I had been reborn. “Miss! Are you deaf? I need to make a transaction!” Mr. Davies tapped impatiently on the glass, his amplified voice yanking me back to reality. I shot up from my chair, forcing a brittle smile onto my face. “Sir, I’m so sorry, but this window is now closed. Please see one of my colleagues for assistance.” Before he could reply, I bolted for the staff-only door behind me. “Hey! Where are you going? Get back here!” the old man shouted after me, his voice muffled by the glass. I didn’t look back. Under the counter, my fingers fumbled with my phone, quickly hitting the record button. No matter what happened this time, I was getting proof. Mr. Davies was still yelling. “What kind of service is this! I have your employee number! I’m going to file a complaint!” I rattled off the standard bank script. “Large transfers require dual authorization. I’d advise you to contact a family member to confirm the transaction first.” “Bullshit! You’re just trying to ruin my good luck!” he sputtered, his face turning red. Ava poked her head out of the breakroom, a look of confusion on her face. “Chloe? What’s going on?” I stared at her, at that face filled with feigned concern, and a wave of nausea washed over me. In my past life, that was the same mouth that had confidently told the entire country I had tried to seduce Mr. Davies. “Stomachache,” I said curtly. “Going to the hospital.” She hurried after me, blocking my path. “Can’t you just tough it out? There’s a customer waiting!” “Move,” I said, shaking her hand off my arm. “Are you crazy?” she hissed, her voice low and threatening. “You want to lose this month’s performance bonus?” I raised my voice, making sure the entire lobby could hear. “If I drop dead at my desk from the pain, are you going to be the one to collect my body?” The bustling bank hall fell silent. Every eye was on us. Ava, clearly not expecting such a forceful response from the usually gentle me, was momentarily speechless. I seized the opportunity, grabbed my bag, and headed for the exit. “Chloe Harris! If you leave without taking official leave, you’ll be fired!” Ava threatened from behind me. I muttered under my breath, “What’s a job when my life is on the line?” With a shove, I pushed open the heavy glass doors and stepped out into the world. I burst into a nearby convenience store, nearly knocking over a rack of chips. I snatched the cheapest bottle of vodka I could find, ran into the restroom, twisted the cap off, and took a swig. Then I fished a compact out of my bag and violently dabbed bright red blush onto my cheeks. Once I was sure I looked sufficiently flushed and drunk, I got into my car and gunned it toward the nearest police station. Sure enough, I didn't make it two blocks before the flashing lights appeared in my rearview mirror. “Ma’am, please step out of the vehicle.” I stumbled out of the car, purposefully breathing a cloud of alcohol-scented air in the officer’s direction. “Have you been drinking?” the officer asked, his brow furrowed. I feigned guilt, slurring my words. “I have a canker sore… just used a little alcohol to rinse my mouth.” He was obviously unconvinced. He steadied me as I pretended to lose my balance. “Ma’am, I need you to cooperate with a breathalyzer test.” I dutifully blew into the device, watching with satisfaction as the numbers skyrocketed. “Ma’am, you’re suspected of driving under the influence. We need to take you to the hospital for a blood test.” I put up a token struggle before “reluctantly” letting them guide me into the back of the patrol car. I could have smiled from ear to ear. In the hospital’s phlebotomy room, the nurse had just withdrawn the needle when the young officer exclaimed, “Her blood alcohol level is zero?” I put on my best aggrieved expression. “I told you, I was just rinsing my mouth.” The officer cleared his throat and pulled out his phone. “Standard procedure requires us to notify your next of kin.” The call connected, and Jonny’s cold voice came through the line. “What is it now?” “Mr. Harris, your wife is at the hospital—” “I’m in a meeting. I don’t have time for this.” The line went dead. The officer awkwardly put his phone away. “Well… how about I give you a ride home?” I nodded enthusiastically, a wave of relief washing over me. I’d dodged the bullet this time, right? Suddenly, my phone vibrated violently. A news alert, emblazoned with a fiery “BREAKING” icon, popped onto the screen: #BankTellerChloeHarrisDefraudsSeniorCitizenOfRetirementSavings The smile froze on my face. 2 I stared at the headline in disbelief, my finger trembling as I tapped on the link. I was met with an avalanche of insults and doxxed personal information. Someone had even crudely photoshopped my face onto a funeral portrait. The comment section was a cesspool of words like “die” and “slut.” Pinned at the top was a video of Mr. Davies, weeping as he gave an interview. “She told me she could help me invest my money, but as soon as the transfer went through, she vanished! That was my life savings!” The memories of my past life—the public crucifixion, the loss of my family and my life—came flooding back, and I began to shake uncontrollably. I hadn't even processed his transaction this time. How could this still be pinned on me? When the police car pulled up to my apartment building, I gasped. The entrance was swarming with people. Reporters with cameras and microphones, neighbors pointing and whispering, and a group at the front holding a banner that read, “FRAUDSTER, GIVE ME BACK MY HARD-EARNED MONEY.” “There she is! That’s Chloe Harris!” someone shouted, and every camera instantly swiveled in my direction. Flashes exploded like a thousand tiny suns, blinding me. A reporter shoved a microphone so close to my face I could smell his coffee breath. “Ms. Harris, do you have anything to say about defrauding an elderly man?” “Where did the three million dollars go?” I stumbled backward, my back hitting a solid chest. Two police officers were already striding toward me. “Chloe Harris? You’re under suspicion of financial fraud. Please come with us.” As they moved to cuff me, I forced the words through gritted teeth. “I took the day off work as soon as I got in! What does this have to do with me?” The officer frowned and glanced at a document in his hand. “According to the bank’s system logs, at 9:47 this morning, you processed a three-million-dollar transfer for a Mr. Davies.” I snatched the paper from him. The transaction record was there in black and white, clear as day, with my employee ID and name. “How is that possible?” I whispered, my mind reeling. Just then, a familiar voice cut through the crowd. “Chloe! You have the nerve to show your face here?” I looked up to see Jonny pushing his way through the onlookers, his face a mask of cold fury. “The police showed up at my office! You have a perfectly good job, and you throw it all away to become a con artist?” Hearing the same words in two lifetimes still felt like a punch to the gut. “You’re my husband. Did it even occur to you to ask me what happened before you pronounced me guilty?” He scoffed. “The police are here. What’s left to argue about?” Before I could respond, another commotion broke out. Ava was helping Mr. Davies push to the front, a camera crew trailing right behind them. “That’s her!” Mr. Davies shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me. “That black-hearted woman scammed me out of my life savings!” Ava, for her part, looked heartbroken. “Chloe, we’ve been best friends for ten years. I can’t believe I never saw this side of you.” I stared at her, my gaze like ice. “Ava, perjury is a crime. Are you sure you want to do this?” She avoided my eyes, sighing with theatrical sadness. “Even if we are best friends, I can’t cover up a crime for you!” Then she turned to my husband, her voice softening. “Jonny, you should convince her to turn herself in…” “Enough!” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “If you’re going to frame me, you’d better have some real evidence!” My eyes flickered to Ava’s hand, which was still resting on Jonny’s arm. I let out a cold laugh. “The two of you are so eager to sling mud at me. You haven’t been sleeping together, have you?” 3 That question was a bomb that detonated in the middle of the crowd. “Are you insane?!” Jonny’s face paled. He instantly shook Ava’s hand off his arm and roared, his voice betraying a hint of panic. “How dare you say something like that in front of all these people!” Ava’s reaction was even faster. Her eyes immediately welled up with tears, and she pointed a trembling finger at me. “Chloe! You’re the one who’s done something shameful, and now you’re trying to blame us?” She turned to the onlookers, her voice catching with a perfectly timed sob. “This is the woman I’ve called my best friend for ten years!” Whispers rippled through the crowd. A few older women shot me looks of disgust. “Enough! Save your act!” I raised my voice. “The issue here is, on what grounds are you accusing me of fraud?” I pointed to the young traffic cop who had brought me home. “He can be my alibi! I’ve been with him since nine o’clock this morning!” Every head turned to the officer. He looked momentarily surprised, then stepped forward. “That’s correct. I pulled this woman over at 9:10 AM for a suspected DUI, and she has been with me, cooperating with the investigation, ever since.” “This is a police matter! Unrelated personnel should not interfere!” Ava shrieked without thinking. I laughed coldly. “He’s a police officer. How is he ‘unrelated personnel’?” She blurted out, “You… you must have hired an imposter! Are you crazy? That’s a felony!” The traffic cop’s expression hardened. He pulled out his badge and presented it to the investigating officers. “I’m with the East Precinct Traffic Division. Here’s my identification.” The officer took the badge, examined it, and spoke into his radio to confirm. When he looked up again, his eyes were sharp. “This officer’s credentials are real. I’m going to need an explanation.” His gaze darted between Ava and Jonny. “Why would you identify someone as a suspect when she has a confirmed alibi?” The statement landed with the force of a thunderclap. Ava, who clearly hadn’t anticipated this turn of events, took a nervous step back, trying to hide behind Jonny. I was about to press my advantage when Mr. Davies suddenly lunged forward, pointing a finger at my face. “I can prove she’s the fraud!” He shakily pulled a crumpled piece of paper and a scrap of fabric from his pocket and handed them to the officer. “Here’s the evidence, officer!” “Last week, at a community event, it was her! She kept pestering me to invest in some retirement project, making it sound like the deal of a lifetime.” “She specifically told me to come to the bank today, said she’d get a commission.” “I was foolish enough to transfer the money, and then she ran off without even giving me a proper contract!” I countered, “I’ve never even been to your neighborhood, and I don’t handle investment products.” “Besides, you’d believe a total stranger just like that?” Mr. Davies licked his lips, his cloudy eyes raking over my body. “Such a bad memory for a young girl. You worked very hard to get me to invest, you know.” He lowered his voice, but just enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Those three nights… you were very enthusiastic. It’s been a long time since this old man has been taken care of so well!” Camera flashes erupted. The crowd gasped. “Shut up!” A chill ran down my spine. “I can sue you for slander!” Unfazed, he pulled a pair of lace panties from his other pocket and shook them out for everyone to see. “Here’s the proof. You left in a hurry that morning and forgot these on my bed.” “I’ve been cherishing them.” The dubious stains on the fabric were sickeningly visible in the daylight. But what truly made my blood run cold was that they were, unmistakably, a custom-made pair my husband had given me for our wedding anniversary. On the inside, my initials were embroidered in silk thread. C.H. 4 The crowd exploded. “Tsk, tsk. She looks so proper, but she’s doing things like that!” “Don’t you get it? The old guy’s got a pension! That’s prime real estate!” “Her poor husband! Cheated on with an old man!” Jonny seized the moment, lunged forward, and slapped me hard across the face. “No wonder you never wanted to have kids with me! You were sleeping around this whole time!” “What did I ever do to you to deserve this humiliation?!” An officer immediately stepped between us. “Sir, please remain calm! Settle your personal matters in private!” Jonny reluctantly backed away, his face a mask of feigned heartbreak. I wiped the blood from my lip. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. He was using the child we lost… as a weapon against me. The child I had given up to honor his wish to be child-free was now just another tool for his moral grandstanding. The officer picked up the underwear with two disgusted fingers. “Ms. Harris, does this belong to you?” I took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s mine, but…” The reporters pounced on my hesitation, their cameras flashing relentlessly. “But I have no idea how it got there,” I finished, swallowing my humiliation. “I lost that pair a while ago.” Jonny sneered. “How else? You tried to seduce him and failed, didn’t you?” But I didn’t break. I pulled out my phone and calmly played a recording. It was the audio of me calling Ava to ask for time off. Her voice was crystal clear. “Okay, I’ll cover for you. You just focus on getting better.” I held the phone out for the officer to hear, showing him the time-stamp on the recording. Ava’s face went slack with shock. “You… you recorded me?” she stammered. The next second, she was scrambling to recover. “That’s impossible! It must have been edited!” “If you don’t believe it,” I said calmly, “we can have it professionally authenticated at the station.” Ava seemed to receive a message on her phone, because she suddenly grabbed the officer’s sleeve. “Officer, I just got the bank’s surveillance footage! It’s much more reliable evidence than some recording!” The video that played on her screen made my blood run cold. It showed me, after leaving the bank, returning to my station to process Mr. Davies’s transaction. The “me” in the video was wearing the exact same beige trench coat I had on today, right down to the hairstyle. A smug, triumphant look crossed Ava’s face. “See? Who are you trying to fool with an edited recording?” “Everyone, look closely! She asked for a day off, then turned right around to scam an old man!” “That’s impossible! I was at the hospital getting my blood drawn! The police and the hospital have complete records!” “This is obviously a deepfake!” I whirled on Ava. “Do you get some kind of sick thrill from framing me?” She stood up straighter. “What are you talking about? That’s you in the video. I didn’t have time to fake anything. You’re just a coward who can’t admit what you’ve done!” Jonny immediately jumped in to support her. “Ava is just trying to help you get on the right path! If you can’t even see that, then I want a divorce!” The crowd began to stir again, a fresh wave of murmurs washing over me. My temples throbbed. Remembering the tragedy of my past life, I gritted my teeth. “I have video evidence, too!” The traffic cop retrieved his body camera from his patrol car. “From 9:10 AM onward, Ms. Harris was under my surveillance the entire time. That includes the blood draw at the hospital, which was also fully recorded.” He played the video. The footage clearly showed my movements at the exact same time as the bank video, creating a direct and impossible conflict. The scene fell into a dead silence. Faced with two completely contradictory videos, everyone was stunned.
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