The day my colleague was assaulted in the conference room, I burst in and saved her. I even told her to call the cops. But the next day, she turned on me, accusing me of being the attacker and claiming I’d coerced her into silence. The company fired me on the spot. My wife divorced me. Friends ghosted me, and family looked the other way. Even though I was eventually released due to lack of evidence, I was already a social pariah, a monster in the eyes of the world. A month later, I saw her in the park, wrapped in the arms of her real attacker. When I ran over to confront them, he shoved me into the lake. As the water filled my lungs and my world went black— I snapped my eyes open. I was back in my office, on the day it all began. 1. "What are you doing? No… let go of me!" "Mmph… Help… somebody, help me…!" I pushed open the door to my office and followed the sound. Through the glass walls of the conference room, I could see two entangled silhouettes. I leaned against the doorframe, frozen. The screech of a toppling chair, the scrape of a desk across the floor, all punctuated by muffled sobs and desperate pleas. It was all so familiar. And so cruelly ironic. In my past life, I was working late when I saw my colleague, Rachel, being assaulted by our manager, Rick Hughes. I kicked the door open, laid Hughes out with a single punch, and got Rachel out of there. Hughes, calmly straightening his tie, had sneered at me. "You dare ruin my fun? You'll pay for this, Jeff." I had picked up Rachel's jacket from the floor, draped it over her trembling shoulders, and tried to comfort her, insisting she report it to the police. When I got home that night, I told my wife, Emily, what happened. She said she was proud of me. But the next morning, Rachel showed up at my desk with two police officers. She pointed a shaking finger at me, her voice choked with tears. "It was him! He tried to rape me in the conference room after work yesterday! I barely managed to fight him off… He threatened me, told me if I said a word, I’d lose my job and he’d go after my family!" I just stood there, stunned, as the cold steel of handcuffs snapped around my wrists. "That's a lie!" I roared. "Rachel, I saved you! Why are you framing me?" But no one believed me. My coworkers stared, whispering. I was hauled away to the precinct. Good news travels slow, but bad news spreads like wildfire. The "rapist" label burned through the entire office building, then through my circle of friends and family. My wife's family, especially. The rumors spiraled out of control, each telling more monstrous than the last. Emily came from money; she’d never known hardship. But because of me, she was drowning in a humiliation she couldn't bear. The pressure finally broke her. She asked for a divorce. The company fired me. In the divorce, I walked away with nothing. I had lost everything. A few days later, the police let me go. Lack of evidence. But my life was already in ruins. I was holding the divorce papers, wandering aimlessly, when I found myself by the lake in the park. I was about to end it all. That’s when I saw them. Rachel and Rick Hughes—kissing passionately under a willow tree. I stormed over and grabbed her arm. "How could you do this to me? I saved you!" She pulled me aside, her voice a low hiss. "I’m just a low-level assistant, Jeff. What was I supposed to do?" "He's the Chairman's brother-in-law! What good would calling the cops do? He’d be out in a day, and I’d be out of a job, with my family in his crosshairs!" "So you destroyed my life instead?" I yelled, my voice cracking. "I lost my job! I lost my home! I’m branded a rapist because of you!" She just scoffed. "You're a college grad. You can find another job anywhere. I'm not like you. I don't have a degree. If I lose this job, I starve." "It's your own fault you couldn't hold on to your job or your wife, so don't blame me. Even without this, she would've left your broke ass eventually!" Looking at her selfish, twisted face, I snapped. I raised my hand and slapped her, hard. "You little piece of trash! You dare touch my woman?" Hughes charged at me and shoved me, hard, off the small bridge. I plunged into the icy water of the man-made lake and drowned. 2. Now, the cries for help were still coming from the conference room. A slow smile spread across my face. I quietly closed the door to my office and walked away. On my way home, I stopped by the grocery store. I was going to cook dinner for Emily tonight. I didn't blame her for leaving me in my past life. She was the daughter of a wealthy family, raised with every comfort, yet she chose me—a poor kid from the sticks with nothing to his name. From our first tiny rental apartment after graduation to the small home we owned now, she had always been by my side. When I walked in, she was at her computer, finishing up some work. Watching her focused profile, I made a silent vow: You suffered so much because of me. It will never happen again. The next day, I went to work as usual. Rachel stormed right up to me, her hand flying. She slapped me across the face, her voice a shrill accusation. "Why didn't you help me yesterday?!" I didn't hesitate. I slapped her back. Twice. Hard. The force of it stunned her. She stood there, clutching her cheek. "You… you hit me?!" "Everyone saw it," I said coolly. "You hit me first. I was just defending myself." She wouldn't let it go. "You heard me! Why didn't you come in?!" I raised my voice, making sure others could hear. "I have no idea what you're babbling about. Get away from me, you psycho." Then, to my nearby colleagues, "Watch out for this one. She attacks people for no reason." She lunged, grabbing my bag with one hand and clawing at my face with the other. I shoved her away and delivered two more sharp slaps. She was about to come at me again when our department head, Mr. Evans, rushed over, drawn by the commotion. Rachel immediately burst into tears, spinning her tale, trying to pin it all on me. It made my blood boil. Mr. Evans’ brow furrowed. "So, you're saying Jeff saw you being assaulted after work yesterday, did nothing, and just left. And that's why you attacked him this morning?" Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her face like a stage actress. "You're unbelievable!" I cut in. "I didn't see a thing, so stop trying to drag me into your mess! And let's say I did see something. Am I legally obligated to play the hero? What law says I have to save you? That's nothing but moral blackmail." The memory of my last life flashed before my eyes—the humiliation, the pain, all because of this baseless accusation. Seeing her stammer, unable to respond, I pressed on. "The person who attacked you is the criminal. You should be calling the police to catch him, not standing here blaming me." Humiliated and furious, Rachel shrieked, "We're colleagues! If you had just helped me, none of this would have happened!" "Don't you yell at me! As for last night, I—know—nothing!" Losing all control, she grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from a nearby desk and hurled it at my head. "Enough!" Mr. Evans roared. "If you two can't sort this out, we'll do it at the precinct. I'm calling the police. It's the end of the year, you should be focused on hitting your targets, not this drama!" He pulled out his phone. Rachel lunged and grabbed his arm, her voice trembling, her face pale. "No, you can't call the police… If you do, my life is really over." 3. Silence fell over the office. You could have heard a pin drop. I broke it. "If you don't want to involve the police, then stop wasting my time," I said coldly. "I have work to do." Mr. Evans glanced at me, then back at her. "Well? What's your decision? Standing here isn't solving anything." Rachel wrung her hands, pacing anxiously and muttering to herself. The whole office had witnessed the scene; the story was already spreading. For a woman, an incident like this, twisted by gossip, could be utterly destructive. It wouldn't just ruin her career at the company; the rumors would reach her friends, her family. "Fine. Let's call the police," she finally said, her voice barely a whisper. After the official statements were taken, the police told me I was free to go. But Rachel erupted. "He definitely saw what happened! He just watched! He was helping the man who attacked me! He’s an accomplice! You can't let him go, you have to arrest him!" The investigating officer looked at her as if she were insane. "Mr. Thompson's departure time from the office is close to the time of the alleged assault, but right now there's no evidence to suggest…" "Are you letting him off just because his manager spoke up for him?" Rachel cut him off, her voice growing wild. "He was in on it! He was the lookout for the guy who raped me! He should be charged, too! How can you let a man like that walk free? Arrest him!" The officer waited for her to run out of breath before speaking in a stern, measured tone. "Ma'am, this is a police station. We operate on fairness and evidence. Your tantrums are useless here. Based on the current testimony, Mr. Thompson is not a suspect. You cannot fabricate facts and slander another person." Rachel wasn't done. "His office light went off right when I was being attacked! How can that be a coincidence?" I answered calmly. "I finished my work, so I went home. Is that not normal? It's a huge office building. I'm in sales. Am I supposed to conduct a full sweep of every floor before I clock out?" Mr. Evans, sitting beside me, started to speak up, but I put a hand on his arm, a silent signal to stay out of it. I didn't want Rachel to latch onto another target. "You did it on purpose!" she shrieked, pounding the table. "You're in league with my attacker! Why else would you leave me there to be assaulted?" The officer’s patience had clearly worn thin. "That's enough!" he boomed. "Based on our current investigation, Mr. Thompson is free to go." "Ms. Vance," he said, turning to Rachel, "what you need to do now is focus on providing a clear description of your assailant. Drop everything else." 4. Rachel physically blocked my path, wailing like a madwoman. "Are you doing this because I'm an easy target? Do you know how hard it is for a woman on her own? Just because I don't have powerful connections, you all walk all over me! Is that it? The poor always get screwed! He watched me get attacked and did nothing! Isn't that a crime?" "This whole thing is his fault! He deserves to be punished for leaving me to suffer! He seems so nice on the surface, but he's a monster, an animal!" "You've ruined my life… and I will never forgive you! I'll make you pay! You won't get away with this!" I just threw my hands up in exasperation, looking at the officer. "I wasn't the only person working late that night. Why are you so fixated on me? Is it because you think I'm an easy target?" I asked her directly. "We live in a society of laws. Everything requires proof." The officer’s voice was like stone. "Ms. Vance, if you continue like this, you will be charged with obstructing an investigation. Now sit down and cooperate. Provide useful evidence. Otherwise, we will be forced to take further action, and you will have to bear the consequences." That finally did it. Rachel slumped back into her chair. "I'll cooperate. I will." With the officer's nod, I walked out of the police station. The next morning, Rachel was back at the office. And she brought the police with her. She pointed at me and screamed, "That's him! Jeff Thompson! He's the one who raped me the other night!" I froze at my desk, the words hitting me like a physical blow. A whole night of drama wasn't enough for her. She was recycling the exact same tactic from my past life. Coworkers immediately gathered, some already raising their phones to record. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure lurking in the background… Rick Hughes, the real attacker. Today's Rachel was a different person. The nervous, ashamed woman from yesterday was gone. In her place was someone standing tall, righteous, almost proud. "Officers, that's him! He raped me in the office the other night! Please, you have to bring this criminal to justice!" People from other companies on our floor started to gather, drawn by the commotion. The crowd grew larger. "What a scumbag. Does something like that and still has the nerve to show up for work." "I don't know, she doesn't exactly look like an angel either. There's no smoke without fire." "Exactly. Look at how she dresses, always looking for attention." "It doesn't matter. What he did is a crime. He deserves to be locked up!" A colleague who was friendly with me spoke up. "That's not Jeff! He would never do something like that! Rachel was trying to frame him yesterday, too!" "Yeah, Jeff's a top performer with a bright future. He's happily married." I stood up, addressed the officers, and bowed slightly to the crowd. "Officers," I said, my voice steady and calm. "I have a statement to make."
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