Right before Thanksgiving, Sarah, our office manager, handed me an envelope with five hundred dollars in cash. Written on the front was: Employee Thanksgiving Gift Budget. The next second, she dropped a message into the main company Slack channel: "I've handed the Thanksgiving gift budget over to Mia, the new administrative assistant. If anyone has any special requests, just let her know!" In my past life, I took that five hundred dollars and drove to every wholesale club in the city, desperately trying to stretch it to buy pies, nuts, and fruit baskets for over two hundred employees. When the money ran out, I dipped into my own savings, paying three thousand dollars out of pocket. But when the gifts were distributed, everyone complained they looked cheap. "Is the company really this stingy this year?" "They call this a Thanksgiving bonus?" "Do you think the new admin pocketed the difference?" My face turned beet red as I tried to explain that the budget was only five hundred dollars. But Sarah stood right there in front of the entire office and dropped a bombshell with effortless casualty: "What? I clearly handed you five thousand." That single sentence nailed me to the cross. Ultimately, I was sued by the company for embezzlement. I became the greedy thief everyone whispered about, and I was beaten to death in a women's correctional facility. After I died, I heard Sarah laughing on the phone with her husband: "I used that five grand to pay off our mortgage months ago." "It's her own fault for being so stupid. Who accepts cash without a receipt?" This time around, I didn't say a word. I took a photo of the envelope, the cash spread out, and the handwriting on the cover, and dropped it straight into the main company Slack channel. I tagged #everyone. "Hi Sarah, I've received the employee Thanksgiving gift budget." "Five hundred dollars in cash." "We have two hundred and thirty-five employees in the company. Does anyone have any specific requests?" 1. The Slack channel went dead silent for several seconds. Finally, Mark, the Sales Manager, popped up: "Mia, is this five hundred dollars the budget per person, or the budget for the entire company?" I stared at the screen and typed slowly. "Mark, it's for the entire company." "Sarah from HR just handed me five hundred dollars in cash. The envelope literally says 'Employee Thanksgiving Gift Budget' on it." The moment I hit send, the channel absolutely exploded. Dave from Marketing: "Two hundred and thirty-five employees. A five-hundred-dollar budget. So the average is like... two dollars and twelve cents per person?" Kevin from Sales: "What does that buy? A single slice of pumpkin pie? Or do we just get to smell a turkey and pass it around the department?" Josh from IT: "Is the company really doing that badly? Or does the boss just hate us?" Lily from Customer Service: "Honestly, just don't give us a bonus at all. This is just insulting." The messages flew up the screen. People who usually lurked in the channel were suddenly furious. Some posted question marks. Some posted sarcastic laughing emojis. And someone tagged the CEO directly. "@Michael, is the Thanksgiving budget really only five hundred dollars?" "We're just trying to confirm." The situation was escalating rapidly, but I sat at my desk, completely unbothered. Soon enough, the CEO came online. He posted a single sentence. "@Sarah, what is going on with the budget?" The channel went quiet again. It took a long time before Sarah finally replied. She acted as if she had just seen the messages. "Oh my gosh, everyone is misunderstanding!" "Mia must not have heard me correctly. That five hundred dollars isn't the total budget for the entire company." "I just told her to use that money to buy a few samples first." "We wanted to test out different pies, nuts, and fruit baskets. Once we pick the best ones, we'll process the official budget." She quickly added another message. "Don't overthink it, guys. The company would never shortchange you!" The channel slowly calmed down. Someone joked: "I knew it. Two dollars a person is just too ridiculous." The CEO didn't say anything else. On the surface, the crisis had been averted. But exactly ten minutes later. Sarah violently shoved open the door to my small office and slammed her hand hard onto my desk. "Mia, what the hell was that?!" She kept her voice low, but her face was dark with fury. "I gave this task to you because I trusted you." "And what do you do? You immediately blast it in the company channel! Were you intentionally trying to embarrass the boss?" I looked up at her, my heart terrifyingly calm. In my past life, she had done the exact same thing, heavily implying that this was the CEO's directive: "Mia, the company's financials haven't been great lately. The boss specifically said we need to cut costs. The Thanksgiving gift is just a formality this year." "You're young, you have the energy. Work a little harder, stretch the money, and let's just get this formality over with." I believed her. I took that five hundred dollars and drove to every wholesale club in the county, comparing prices down to the cent. But even then, it wasn't nearly enough. In the end, I used my entire first month's intern paycheck to cover the difference. Three thousand dollars out of pocket. And when the gifts were distributed, everyone accused me of skimming off the top. My face burned as I tried frantically to explain that the budget was only five hundred dollars. But Sarah stood right there in the crowd, pretending to be absolutely shocked: "What? I clearly gave you five thousand dollars." In the middle of the office, everyone's eyes drilled into me like daggers. The CEO's face was livid. Coworkers whispered viciously. "She looked so innocent. I can't believe she had the nerve." "She pocketed a five-thousand-dollar bonus all by herself?" "No wonder the gifts were so pathetic. The rest of the money went straight into her bank account." I had absolutely no way to defend myself. Because Sarah gave me cash. There was no bank transfer. There was no receipt. The security cameras only caught her handing me an envelope, but they couldn't see what was inside it. She was a veteran employee. I was just a probationary intern desperately trying to get hired full-time. No one believed me. Ultimately, I was sued by the company, branded a thief, and beaten to death in prison. After I died, I heard Sarah talking to her husband on the phone: "I used that five grand to pay off our mortgage months ago." "It's her own fault for being so stupid. Who accepts cash without a receipt?" Thinking of this, my fingers slowly curled into fists. This time, no one was going to make me their scapegoat. 2. Seeing that I remained silent, Sarah assumed I was reacting just like my past self—terrified by her intimidation. Her expression softened slightly. "Mia, I'm not attacking you." "But you know how it is. Squeezing the Thanksgiving budget was the boss's idea." "You're just an intern. Stop being so rigid and blabbing everything to the entire company." She paused, then lowered her voice further. "Mia, you're up for your full-time review at the end of the month, right?" "Look at you. You didn't go to an Ivy League school, you don't have any connections. Whether you get hired full-time or not is entirely up to the boss." "If you handle this beautifully, the boss will notice." "When the time comes, I'll put in a good word for you. The company will naturally want to keep you. Isn't that a lot better than showing off in a Slack channel?" In my past life, these were the exact words that trapped me. I was terrified of not getting the job. I was terrified the boss would think I was incompetent. I was terrified that with one word, Sarah could have me fired. So I took that five hundred dollars and ran myself ragged across town. When the money wasn't enough, I paid out of my own pocket. And I foolishly believed it. I believed that if I just got the job done, the boss would see my hard work, and I'd get to stay. But now I realized... she had calculated me perfectly from the very beginning. She knew I was timid. She knew I wouldn't dare ask questions. She knew I would swallow the grievance silently. And in the end, she could effortlessly dump all the dirty water onto my head, while using the stolen money to pay off her mortgage! This time, I lowered my head, perfectly mimicking the timid, frightened intern from my past life. "Sarah, I understand." "I was too impulsive just now." The anger on Sarah's face faded a bit more. "Good." I bit my lip, acting as if I was deeply conflicted. "Can I just confirm one more time?" "For this Thanksgiving, the total budget for all two hundred and thirty-five employees really is just five hundred dollars. Right?" Sarah looked impatient, but she answered: "Yes." "Didn't I just tell you? The company needs to cut costs." I asked again: "And this is explicitly the CEO's directive?" Sarah replied: "Yes." "Of course it's his directive. Do you really think an Office Manager has the authority to slash a budget on her own?" I nodded, continuing my inquiry: "And if I handle this situation perfectly, the boss will consider bringing me on full-time?" Sarah's face turned serious. "Yes." "Mia, if you actually want to stay here, get the job done right. Do not cause any more problems for me." She tapped the envelope sitting on my desk, pushing it slightly closer to me. "Keep the money safe." "Don't say another word in the group chat." "When you go shopping, be smart about it. Make the packaging look nice so people don't immediately realize it's cheap." I replied softly. "Okay, Sarah." She stood up, issuing one final warning. "Mia, you only get one shot at this. Do not disappoint me again." The moment my office door clicked shut. The timid, frightened look on my face vanished completely. I picked up my phone and hit "Stop Recording." The entire conversation, not a single word missed. Five hundred dollars. Total company budget. The CEO's directive. Handling it poorly will affect my full-time offer. Every single sentence, crystal clear. I saved the audio file and immediately backed it up to my encrypted cloud drive. Then, I spread the envelope out on my desk again. The front: Employee Thanksgiving Gift Budget. The five crisp one-hundred-dollar bills. The desktop monitor displaying the exact date and time. I took photos of everything. And saved them all into a locked, encrypted album. This time, I wasn't going to rely on my words to explain anything. I was going to let the evidence do the talking. Just as I finished, the company Slack channel started blowing up again. Kevin from Sales tagged me first. "Mia, I want those gourmet truffle chocolates." "The ones the tech company next door gave out last year. They looked super high-end." Dave from Marketing followed up. "Make sure the mixed nuts are name-brand." "Don't get that cheap, bulk-bin trail mix." Lily from Customer Service chimed in: "Can we get some nice fruit added? Organic grapes or premium cherries would be great." Josh from IT was the most direct. "I'm not picky." "Pies, nuts, fruit, Amazon gift cards. Just give us something actually worth having." Immediately, a wall of "+1" flooded the chat. Sarah popped up in the channel again. "Mia, make sure you write down everyone's requests. Try to accommodate them as best as you can." "It's the holidays! Keeping everyone happy is the most important thing!" She added a smiley face emoji at the end, playing the role of the incredibly thoughtful, caring HR manager flawlessly. I stared at the screen and slowly typed my reply: "Will do, Sarah." "I've noted everyone's requests and will do my absolute best to accommodate them." Watching the absolute frenzy in the chat, I felt terrifyingly calm. Because I knew that the day before Thanksgiving... was when the real war was going to start. 3. On the day I went procurement shopping, I didn't drive across the entire county hitting every wholesale club like I did in my past life. I drove straight to a discount bulk warehouse on the edge of town. The most basic, generic mini pumpkin pies. Two hundred and thirty-five of them. Five hundred dollars. After deducting the delivery fee, it was exactly enough. I demanded the store owner give me an itemized, official receipt. Item description. Quantity. Unit price. Total price. Not a single detail was missing. When I paid the bill, I recorded a video of the entire transaction on my phone. In my past life, I sacrificed my own paycheck just to save face for the company. This time, I operated strictly within the budget I was given. The day before Thanksgiving. The delivery guys from the warehouse hauled several large cardboard boxes into the reception area. I signed for them, moved the boxes into the breakroom, and dropped a message in the company Slack: "The Thanksgiving gifts have arrived." "Everyone can come to the breakroom to pick theirs up." The message had barely been sent before a stampede of footsteps echoed down the hall. The Sales team was the first to arrive. Kevin walked in, laughing loudly. "Where are my truffle chocolates?!" Dave from Marketing was right behind him. "Let's see what kind of haul we got this year." Lily from Customer Service had her phone out, ready to post. "I need to get a picture of this for my Instagram story." But the second the boxes were opened, every single voice in the room died. Inside the cardboard boxes, there were no gift baskets. No gourmet nuts. No organic fruit. And definitely no Amazon gift cards. There was only a mountain of generic, shrink-wrapped mini pumpkin pies. Packaged in cheap, flimsy plastic, with a faded label printed on top. Kevin's face instantly dropped. "What the hell is this?" Dave picked up one of the mini pies, inspecting it with disgust. "This is what we're getting?" Lily frowned deeply. "Didn't you say you were going to try and accommodate everyone's requests?" Josh from IT let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Two hundred people, and we each get one shitty gas-station pie?" Every single pair of eyes in the breakroom snapped directly to me. I stood there, my expression perfectly flat. "The budget was exactly five hundred dollars." "I bought exactly what the budget allowed." The moment those words dropped, the crowd exploded. "Five hundred again?!" "Didn't Sarah say the five hundred was just for samples?!" "Did you actually pocket the rest of the money?" "Even these pathetic things couldn't have cost five hundred dollars!" I didn't rush to explain. Because I knew the main character hadn't arrived yet. Sure enough, Sarah pushed her way through the crowd a minute later. She took one look at the open boxes, and her face instantly darkened. Just like in my past life, she immediately went on the offensive, flipping the blame entirely onto me. "Mia, what is the meaning of this?!" "Didn't I explicitly tell you to handle this properly?" "And you use this absolute garbage to insult everyone?!" I looked at her. In my mind, the memories of my past life rushed back. The exact same scene. The exact same interrogation. The exact same malicious framing. But the difference was, I was no longer the girl from my past life. "Sarah. The budget was five hundred dollars." Sarah acted as if she had just heard the most absurd joke in the world, her voice spiking in volume. "Five hundred?!" "Mia, are you seriously trying to lie to my face right now?" "I clearly gave you FIVE THOUSAND dollars!" The breakroom went dead silent. Everyone's gaze instantly, violently shifted back to me. It was exactly like my past life. Suspicion. Disgust. And the sick thrill of watching a scandal unfold. Sarah's eyes welled with tears, acting as if she was deeply, personally betrayed. "You're just an intern. I took you under my wing, I took care of you. How could you do something like this?" "That was the holiday bonus money for the entire staff!" She laid it on thicker, her voice breaking. "If you were having financial problems, you could have just told me! I would have lent you the money! But how could you embezzle the company's Thanksgiving budget?!" At that exact moment, the CEO, Michael, walked in. He stood at the edge of the crowd, his face livid. "What is going on here?" Sarah immediately turned to him. "Michael, I handed five thousand dollars in cash to Mia and told her to manage the Thanksgiving gifts." "And this is what she bought. Now she's trying to claim I only gave her five hundred." Michael looked at me, his eyes dark and threatening. "Mia. Do you have an explanation for this?" I didn't answer him. I looked directly at Sarah. "Sarah. Are you absolutely certain you gave me five thousand dollars?" Sarah's face stiffened for a microsecond, but she quickly covered it with a cold scoff. "Mia, are you seriously trying to shift the blame onto me at this point?" I didn't take the bait. I simply asked again: "Sarah, think very carefully. Did you give me five hundred, or five thousand?" Sarah ground her teeth. "Obviously, it was five thousand!" Michael's face was rigid with anger. He pulled out his phone. "Since we can't get a straight answer, we'll let the police handle it." I nodded. "Perfect." Half an hour later. The police arrived at the office. "Are you admitting to receiving five thousand dollars in cash?" the officer asked me. I shook my head. "I only received five hundred." Sarah immediately interjected. "She's lying!" "I handed the money to her myself!" The officer looked at me. "Do you have proof?" That was the exact question I had been waiting for. In my past life, I had no proof. I only had my word. And no one believed me. This time, I pulled out my phone, opened the audio file, and hit play. Sarah's voice rang out, crystal clear, through the speaker... 4. The recording was flawless. "Can I just confirm one more time? For this Thanksgiving, the total budget for all two hundred and thirty-five employees really is just five hundred dollars. Right?" That was my voice. Immediately following it was Sarah's impatient, dismissive reply. "Yes." "Didn't I just tell you? The company needs to cut costs." The entire breakroom went dead silent. The recording continued. "And this is explicitly the CEO's directive?" "Yes. Of course it's his directive. Do you really think an Office Manager has the authority to slash a budget on her own?" The color began to violently drain from Sarah's face. She lunged forward, desperately trying to snatch my phone. "Mia, you recorded me?!" I took a quick step back. The police officer immediately raised his hand, physically blocking her. "Ma'am, please step back and remain calm." I didn't pause the audio. The recording captured her lowering her voice, taking on that conspiratorial, threatening tone. "Mia, you're up for your full-time review at the end of the month, right?" "If you handle this beautifully, the boss will notice." "Keep the money safe. Don't say another word in the group chat." "When you go shopping, be smart about it. Make the packaging look nice so people don't immediately realize it's cheap." The recording ended. The silence in the breakroom was suffocating. Every single person who had just been accusing me of embezzlement was now completely, awkwardly silent. Michael's face had turned an apocalyptic shade of purple. He slowly turned to look at Sarah. "Sarah. You told her this was my directive?" Sarah's lips trembled uncontrollably. "Michael, I... I didn't mean it like that." "I was just trying to control overhead." "Hasn't the company been heavily emphasizing budget cuts lately?" Michael let out a harsh, freezing laugh. "Cutting the budget to five hundred dollars for over two hundred employees?" "And doing it under my name?!" Panic flooded Sarah's eyes. But like a cornered rat, she desperately tried to bite back at me. "But what does that recording actually prove?!" "She only recorded the second half of the conversation!" "Before that happened, I had already given her the five thousand!" "That five hundred was just extra cash I gave her to buy the initial samples!" I couldn't help but laugh out loud. Even backed into a corner with undeniable evidence, she was still fighting. I looked at the police officer. "I have more evidence." I opened my encrypted photo album. The first photo was the front of the envelope. Written in Sharpie: Employee Thanksgiving Gift Budget. The second photo was the flap open, displaying exactly five one-hundred-dollar bills. The third photo was a wide shot showing the envelope, the cash, and my computer monitor clearly displaying the date and timestamp. The fourth photo was a screenshot of my message in the main company Slack channel. I zoomed in on each photo, one by one. "I took these photos the exact second she handed me the money." "The timestamps match the company chat logs perfectly." "I explicitly stated in the public channel: 'I have received five hundred dollars in cash.'" "If she really gave me five thousand dollars, why didn't she correct me immediately in front of the entire company?" Mark, the Sales Manager, immediately spoke up. "She's right. Mia said it in the main channel." "We all saw it." Dave from Marketing nodded vigorously. "I even asked her specifically if the five hundred was per person or for the whole company." "She said it was for the whole company." Lily from Customer Service added quietly: "Sarah came into the chat later and claimed the five hundred was just for samples." "But she never once mentioned that she had given Mia five thousand dollars." Josh from IT glared at Sarah, his face flushed with anger. "Were you just playing us for idiots?" "Telling us to submit requests for expensive gifts when you knew the budget was only five hundred bucks?!" Sarah's eyes were red, panicking wildly. "Don't listen to her!" "Mia is incredibly manipulative! She's been gunning for a full-time offer, she wants my job, so she intentionally set me up!" I looked at her with absolute, unwavering calm. "Sarah. All I did was take a picture of the money you handed me." "And record the exact words that came out of your mouth." "If this is a trap, you're the one who built it, and you're the one who walked right into it." The police officer turned to Michael. "Sir, what was the actual, officially approved budget for the Thanksgiving bonuses?" Michael turned to look at the Director of Finance. The Finance Director had been standing quietly at the back of the crowd. Her face looked incredibly strained. "Michael, let me pull up the system logs right now." She pulled out her phone and logged into the corporate accounting portal. A few seconds later, she looked up. "The officially approved budget for the Thanksgiving employee gifts was five thousand dollars." "The approval signature is Michael's." "The cash disbursement was signed out by... Sarah from HR." The moment that sentence dropped, the breakroom absolutely exploded. "Five thousand?!" "Then where the hell is the money?!" "Sarah withdrew five grand, handed Mia five hundred, and kept the rest?!" "Where did the other forty-five hundred dollars go?!" Sarah's face was ashen. The color of a corpse. She tried to stammer out a defense. "No, I just... I hadn't had a chance to give it to her yet." "The money is still locked in my desk." Michael asked coldly: "Where is the money?" Sarah opened her mouth, but she couldn't force a single syllable out. The police officer looked directly at her. "Ma'am, since the company has verified that five thousand dollars was disbursed to you, you need to explain exactly where that cash went." Sarah's hands began to shake violently. I stared at her. But I didn't feel the euphoric rush of triumph I thought I would. Because in my past life, I was the one standing in that exact spot. Surrounded by everyone. Screamed at by everyone. I begged, over and over again, swearing I only received five hundred dollars. But no one believed me. This time, she finally got to taste exactly what that felt like.
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