After Rebirth, Refusing My Clogs, I Watch Intern Miscarry

In my last life, one kind gesture on a typhoon daylending out a pair of rubber clogsgot me branded a murderer and left me dead in the street.

That day the rain came down in sheets, and the intern Narelle Fox had soaked her flats clean through.

She begged me to lend her the spare clogs from the office, then slipped in front of the time clock and lost her baby.

After the doctor examined her, she wanted to bury the truththat days of partying had already put her at risk of miscarriage.

So she swore up and down that I'd smeared dish soap on the soles.

The whole company came after me, and her fianc, in a rage, had me thrown into a detention cell.

I was blacklisted across the entire industry, and the day I walked out of detention, a van, driven by someone out of his mind, plowed straight into me.

Reborn, I opened my eyes right at the moment Narelle was eyeing my clogs and playing the victim.

...

"Nora Henson, it's freezing on a typhoon day. Could you lend me that spare pair of thick-soled clogs, just for the day?"

My eyes snapped open, the blur sharpening all at once.

Narelle was crouched beside my desk, both hands clamped tight around the armrest of my chair.

Cold sweat broke out along my back.

The agony of a van crushing my bones still seemed to linger somewhere in my body.

I quickly pulled my feet back under the desk. My voice came out cold and flat.

"No."

Narelle froze for a moment.

Then her eyes went red on the spot, and a clear sob crept into her voice.

"Nora, just for one day. I'll give them back before we clock out, I promise."

"My soles are soaked through. My toes are cramping."

"You've got a spare pair right there in your cabinet. Can't you cut a new hire a little slack?"

The words landed, and half the clatter of keyboards in the office stopped.

Several pairs of eyes peeked out from behind their monitors.

I looked at her coldly.

Last time, she'd crouched right here crying the same way.

I'd gone soft and lent her the shoes, and she'd raced to the time clock to protect her perfect attendance bonus, slipped, and lost the baby.

Then swore I'd coated the soles with dish soap.

I stared at that pitiful little face and spaced out every word.

"Didn't you say last time I looked like some frumpy old lady in these clogs? What, they're not ugly anymore?"

"Besides, I've got athlete's foot. Can't lend them to you."

Manager Mason strode into the office.

He slammed a stack of reports down on my desk.

"Nora, what's your game here?"

"You're a senior employee. You're her mentor."

"It's one pair of shoes. You really have to pull rank and push around an intern?"

I lifted my eyes to him.

Last time, he was the one who'd led the charge, accusing me of being jealous of the new girl.

He was also the one who'd let Narelle's fianc come make a scene at the office.

I kicked my chair back and stood up straight.

"Manager Mason, the company has a clear dress code and a workplace safety policy."

"She chose to wear thin flats to work on a typhoon day. That's on her."

"If you feel so sorry for her, you can take off your own leather shoes and give them to her."

Mason jabbed a finger at my desk.

"Nora! You're really going to wreck the department's harmony over something this small?"

"We're all coworkers. You do understand what it means to help each other out?"

"If she gets sick, who's running today's data reconciliation? You, all by yourself?"

I sat back down and logged into the company's admin and support system.

"I have athlete's foot. It's a fungal infection. And anyway, the company over-ordered supplies for the janitorial staff a while back."

"Since you care so much about your subordinate's health, Manager Mason, I'd be happy to check with admin for you."

Eight minutes later, Liam Lawrence from admin walked in carrying a pair of black rain boots.

"Narelle, don't bother with Nora's clogsyou don't want to catch her athlete's foot."

"These are the janitorial rain boots. Wear these for now, get you through the day."

Narelle took the boots with trembling hands and muttered under her breath.

"These shoes... how am I supposed to wear these? They're so ugly."

Mason shot her a glare. "Just put them on and quit stirring up trouble."

Narelle bit her lip and took the rain boots.

I shoved the tablet aside on my desk and grabbed the projector remote.

The company group chat lit up across the glass wall of the conference room.

I zoomed in on the typhoon yellow warning posted yesterday at three in the afternoon.

I pointed at the screen and looked around the whole office.

"Management sent this out yesterday. Everyone was told to stay safe."

"Narelle, you chose to look cute. You didn't care about your own safety."

"And now that there's a problem, you go around borrowing things off people in a pinch?"

I looked at my coworkers, one word at a time.

"Fine if nothing happens. But if something does, who answers for it? Which of you is willing to carry that?"

The office went dead quiet.

A few of the ones who'd been whispering and blaming me a moment ago ducked their heads and pretended to study their keyboards.

Narelle gripped the edge of those black rain boots so hard her knuckles went white.

"Nora, I didn't see the group message"

I cut her off without ceremony.

"Not seeing the group message is your problem. It's not a reason to show up at my desk first thing to borrow shoes."

Edgar strode up to my desk and pulled out a form stamped with a red seal.

"Nora, you think you've outgrown this place?"

"This is Narelle's probation review form for next month."

"You're her mentor. Your evaluation counts for forty percent."

"You push this so far todaydoes that mean you don't want to mentor her, or you don't want to work in this department anymore?"

I looked at the form, and a mocking curve pulled at my mouth.

I reached back and opened the bottom drawer.

Out came a document I'd printed long ago, already stamped with my personal seal.

I pinched the edge of it, flicked my wrist, and threw it straight at Edgar's chest.

The paper drifted down and settled at his feet.

The words across the top were perfectly clear: Termination of Mentorship Confirmation.

Edgar froze, staring down at the document on the floor, taking a long moment to react.

"What is this supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it says." My voice was calm, without a ripple.

"As of now, I'm no longer Narelle's mentor."

I picked up the internal line on my desk and dialed HR.

I hit the speaker button. Two rings, then someone answered.

"April, it's Nora."

"I'm formally handing off Narelle's mentorship."

The reply came fast. "Okay."

The call ended, and Narelle came apart completely.

She dropped the black rain boots on the floor and threw herself at me, clutching my sleeve.

"Nora! Nora, I was wrong!"

"I'll never borrow anything from you again, okay?"

"Please don't drop me. If I don't have a mentor, my probation review next month is going to get blocked for sure!"

She looked utterly pitiful.

I looked down at her hand fisted in my sleeve, reached over with my other hand, and pried her fingers loose one by one.

"Don't touch me."

Edgar slammed a fist into the side of the water cooler.

"Nora! You don't have an ounce of empathy!"

"A selfish person like you doesn't deserve a place on my team!"

I grabbed my car keys and handbag off the desk and forced the computer to shut down.

"Whether I deserve it isn't up to you. It's up to my employment contract."

"There's a typhoon red alert today. Per the city emergency management office, nonessential staff can leave early."

"Goodbye."

I pushed open the glass door of the office without looking back and walked toward the elevators.

The cold wind in the corridor hit my face, and I felt clearer than I ever had.

I walked down the storm-lashed street under a black umbrella.

The wind whipped the standing water off the pavement and flung it hard against my pant legs.

Right then my phone buzzed. It was Mr. Finch, the HR director at the new company.

"Nora, we've checked all your onboarding details on our end. Everything's in order."

"How's the handover going with your old company?"

I looked down at the ER note in my hand, my voice easy. "It all went smoothly, Mr. Finch."

"I've already cut off all my core access."

Mr. Finch laughed warmly. "Good. A senior manager like you is exactly what our team needs."

I hung up. I'd just stepped out through the hospital doors when my phone buzzed again.

A message from Narelle Fox, with a photo of the office floor covered in muddy water.

Attached was a voice message transcribed to text, dripping with self-pity.

"Nora, those black rain boots are so ugly, and they rub my feet raw."

"Can I really not just borrow your clogs to switch into? I'll only wear them at my desk, I swear I won't walk around."

I stared at the message, and a wave of pure irritation rose in me.

What exactly was her obsession with my clogs?

Or had she planned all along to lose the baby today, so she needed an excuse to pin it on someone else?

I typed back directly.

"Admin records show you already picked up your rain boots today."

"Please wear them in strict accordance with company safety regulations."

"If you refuse to wear them for personal reasons and any accident results, the responsibility is your own."

Five minutes later, Narelle posted an update to her social feed.

In the picture, she was still wearing those soaked soft-leather flats.

The caption read: "Some senior colleagues have hearts colder than the rain in a typhoon. Do new hires just deserve to be left out in the cold?"

Edgar Mason liked it almost right away.

Then two coworkers, the type who always tried to smooth things over, sent me private messages.

"Nora, you're really being too hard today."

"Narelle's in tears. Lending her a pair of shoes wouldn't cost you a thing."

"We all have to keep working together. Don't sour the relationship this much."

I looked at all this self-righteous advice, and a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

I switched back to the company group chat, my fingers flying across the screen, and sent one last message.

"Attention, everyone."

"There's serious water leaking in the hallways and lobby. The floors are extremely slippery."

"Don't take any chances. Safety first."

Once it sent, I turned on Do Not Disturb for the group.

Then I dropped the phone into my bag and took a cab home.

Back home, I took a hot shower and changed into dry, comfortable loungewear.

Outside, the rain hammered against the glass in a steady clatter.

The wind howled, tearing at the crowns of the trees along the road.

I brewed a steaming cup of black tea and settled back into the soft couch.

Quietly, I watched the second hand on the wall tick forward, notch by notch.

The time crept toward five thirty.

In my last life, this was the exact moment Narelle rushed for the time clock and slammed hard onto the floor.

I lifted my cup and took a sip of the warm black tea.

This time, I wanted to see just how she planned to keep this little show going.

I flicked open the company group chat I'd left on mute all afternoon.

The whole thing had already blown up.

Screen after screen of blood-soaked photos, sickening to look at.

In the pictures, Narelle lay on the marble floor beside the time clock, both hands clamped over her belly.

The soaked soft-leather flats had been flung to one side, and a glaring dark-red pool wound out from beneath her.

Messages refreshed by the dozen every second.

"Oh my God! Narelle lost the baby!"

"Call 911! Why isn't the ambulance here yet?!"

"How did she fall so hard? What's that layer on the floor?"

Right after that, Edgar dropped a sixty-second voice message into the group.

I tapped it, and Edgar's roar filled the entire living room in an instant.

"Nora! You vicious woman!"

"Fine, you didn't want to lend her the shoes. But what gives you the right to splash dish soap in front of the time clock?"

"The cleaning lady said she was never over there scrubbing anything! That foam on the floor was all you!"

"You were just jealous that Narelle was getting made permanent, so you set her up to slip and lose the baby!"

"I'm telling you, this is murder. You'd better get ready for prison!"

I stared coldly at the messages on the screen.

Absurd. Beyond absurd.

I'd left the office at two thirty. The security cameras and my keycard both had it on record.

And he could still pin the dish soap on me.

Before I could even close the app, a glaring topic popped up in the local trending list.

"Vicious Veteran Employee Poisons Pregnant Woman at Time Clock Out of Jealousy, Causing Miscarriage"

Behind it sat a dark-red "HOT."

I clicked in. The very first post was a pale selfie of Narelle lying on the ambulance stretcher.

An IV line ran into her arm, tear tracks at the corners of her eyes, the caption dripping with drama:

"Baby, I'm sorry. Mommy couldn't protect you."

"If this senior colleague had a problem with me, she could have come at me. Why go after an innocent life?"

In under ten minutes, that post was shared tens of thousands of times.

The comments were wall to wall with people cursing me, and someone had even dug up my ID badge photo and my name.

"A killer like this deserves to be cut a thousand times!"

"Find out what company she works at and get her blacklisted across the whole industry!"

My phone buzzed hard. It was the recruiter from the new company.

The second the call connected, the voice on the other end was clipped and rushed:

"Ms. Henson, given that you're currently caught up in an extremely damaging public scandal"

"Mr. Finch has instructed us to suspend your offer for now, until the police issue a clear conclusion to their investigation."

"I'm sorry. We can't take on that kind of reputational risk."

The call cut off from their end.

At the same moment, a huge slam.

Someone had kicked my security door hard from the outside, hard enough to shake dust loose from the walls.

Curses came through the door.

"Nora! You murdering little bitch! Get out here!"

"You killed my son. I want a life for a life!"

"Break it down! We're beating her to death today, no question!"

The handle of the security door twisted wildly, metal shrieking as it warped.

I sat on the sofa, watching the iron door shudder.

And dialed 911.

After I hung up, I moved quickly to the computer.

Opened the company's internal collaboration app and set up an online video meeting with mandatory attendance for everyone.

I dragged Edgar, the company's HR director, the legal counsel, and Narelle's account all into the room.

The instant the meeting connected, Edgar's face, twisted with rage, filled the screen.

"Nora! You've got the nerve to open a video call? Get yourself down to the hospital right now and kneel and apologize!"

I ignored his roaring and turned the camera to face myself.

Then I slowly raised my right hand.

In front of the lens, I held up a small black USB drive.

"When Narelle fell, the hallway camera really was broken."

"So you all figured that with no one watching, you could just make up whatever story you liked."

I looked at Edgar on the screen, a cold smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"Want to see what's on the drive?"