Chapter 2The Good Samaritan Scandal

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?”