It was the middle of the night when the frantic banging started on our front door. “Mia, open up! It’s my dad, he collapsed! You gotta get him to the hospital!” My husband, David, started to sit up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, ready to get the door. I grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. “Shh. Don’t say a word.” In my last life, my husband and I opened that door. We helped carry his father to our car out of the goodness of our hearts. That single act of kindness cost us everything. It led to the ruin of our home and the end of our lives. 1. David blinked at me, his voice thick with sleep. “Mia? What’s wrong?” he whispered. “It’s Rick. His dad is sick and they don’t have a car. We should help them.” A cold smile touched my lips. “If it’s a real emergency, why not just call 911?” “Don’t turn on the lights. Don’t make a sound. Pretend we’re not home.” David was confused, but he listened to me. He scratched his head, laid back down, and pulled the covers up. A moment later, he murmured, “Mia, if his dad… if something happens because we didn't help, won’t you feel guilty?” I shook my head, hiding the inferno of hatred in my eyes. Guilty? Never again. The banging continued for a long, relentless time. Then our phones started buzzing, one after the other, calls from Rick and his wife, Brenda. Luckily, I had silenced them both before bed. Now David was starting to see that something was wrong. “This is weird,” he said, his voice low. “You’d think they’d give up after a few knocks. Why are they just hammering on the door?” “And if his dad is dying, why are they wasting time here instead of finding another ride?” He was right. They’d been at it for nearly ten minutes. I crept out of bed and tiptoed to the door, pressing my ear against the cool wood. “Damn it, nobody’s home. Now what?” It was Rick’s voice, raw with frustration. He spat on the ground just outside our door. “Did you find anyone else?” he asked Brenda. “No.” A heavy sigh from outside. “Son of a bitch. What rotten luck. We need someone now. Fine, call 911. We can’t let the old man kick the bucket yet.” Their voices faded as they walked away. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and turned to face my husband. His eyes were wide with shock. “They… they wanted to…?” I nodded, my expression grim. “Yes. Exactly what you’re thinking.” For a long time before he finally fell asleep, David kept muttering in disbelief. “How could they be like that? I don’t understand.” “We’ve been neighbors for years. I thought we were friends.” “How could they want to hurt us?” I placed a hand gently over his mouth. “Stop,” I whispered. “Just go to sleep.” 2. In my last life, David and I opened the door immediately. We helped them carry the old man, who was barely breathing, into the back of our car. As soon as we were on the road, they started screaming at us from the back seat, telling us to drive faster, faster. After running the second red light, we crashed. We just clipped the side of another car. It was a minor fender bender, nothing serious. But that little bump was all it took. By the time we got to the hospital, the old man was gone. Rick and Brenda’s faces changed instantly. They started wailing in the hospital corridor, pointing at us, screaming that we were murderers. They claimed the minor collision had caused their father to hit his head on the back of the seat, and that’s what killed him. There was, in fact, a cut on the back of his head. Before we could even say a word, the driver of the other car stormed in and pointed a finger at us. “I’ll testify to it! They saw my car and sped up on purpose, they deliberately rammed into me!” he shouted. “They knew they had a sick man in the car and they did it anyway! What kind of monsters are you?” And just our luck, that particular stretch of road had no traffic cameras. He died in our car. We had no choice but to take the blame. We paid them the money they demanded. But it wasn’t enough. They got a copy of his latest physical, made huge banners, and started protesting outside both of our workplaces. They told everyone that he had been on the road to recovery. They screamed that if it weren’t for us, he would be alive and well. That he was the rock of their family, and now their lives were in shambles, their kids were too grief-stricken to go to school. They told the world that we had destroyed their family. That we were unforgivable, cold-blooded killers. They forced us to start covering their living expenses, their child support, everything. They became a bottomless pit, sucking the life out of us. We paid one bill, and another would appear. They demanded we fund their children’s lives all the way into adulthood. If David or I showed the slightest hesitation, they’d start the waterworks and the histrionics, making our lives a living hell. They bled every last cent from our savings and still they weren’t satisfied. One night, they got us drunk, stole our IDs, and took out a series of high-interest online loans in our names. The money went straight into their pockets, leaving us with a mountain of debt. I will never forget the day the loan shark’s thugs came to our door. Rick was standing off to the side, watching the show, casually cracking sunflower seeds. “Yeah, that’s them! A couple of shameless murderers!” he yelled, egging them on. “Hit ‘em! Good and hard! Better if you just kill them!” “You’d be doing the world a favor!” he shouted as the first punch landed. He paused, then added with a smirk, “Oh, and hey, don’t kill the woman. She’s got a nice body. You guys could have some fun. When you do, don’t forget to call me over.” And just like that, David and I were beaten to death on our own doorstep. Even after we were dead, they weren’t finished. They started a live stream, trashing our names online, and incited their followers to go and desecrate our graves. But fate, or God, or whatever you want to call it, gave me a second chance. It sent me back to the very day our descent into hell began. 3. The next morning, we ran into Rick and Brenda on our way out of the apartment complex. Rick shot us a venomous glare. “What were you two up to last night? We knocked for ages.” David managed a weak smile. “Oh, hey, Rick. We had a company dinner, got back really late. Was something wrong?” Brenda snorted. “My father had an attack and needed to go to the hospital, that’s what was wrong.” She rounded on me. “Mia, do you have any idea that because of you, my father almost died?” My husband, David, opened his mouth to explain, but I stepped in front of him, a faint, mocking smile on my face. “I’m sorry, Brenda, I don’t understand,” I said sweetly. “What does your father’s health have to do with us?” That set her off. She put her hands on her hips. “What does it have to do with you? You delayed his medical treatment! After all these years as neighbors, you don’t even answer your phone! Whose fault is it if not yours?” My smile widened. “Wow, the standards for being a good neighbor are getting pretty high these days. For a second there, I thought I’d signed a 24-hour, on-call caregiver agreement.” I tilted my head. “You had time to call us over and over, but no time to call 911?” “You—!” Brenda was stunned. I had always been the quiet, agreeable one. She wasn't prepared for this. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “This is your fault, and you won’t even apologize! How dare you talk to me like that! All those years of neighborly kindness were wasted on a dog!” “You’re lucky my dad is okay,” she shrieked. “Otherwise, I would make you pay!” Rick spat on the pavement beside him. “Fine. You want to play it this way, deny everything, no decency? Don’t blame us for what comes next.” I feigned shock, taking a small step back. “Rick, are you threatening me? You should know, I have a very weak constitution. I get frightened so easily. If your threats cause me any health problems… could you really afford to take responsibility for that?” Rick just stared at me, his face a cold mask. “Just you wait,” he muttered, before turning and stalking off. 4. Rick’s dad didn’t die. Remembering everything from my past life, a terrible suspicion began to form in my mind. When I told David, he came to the same conclusion. A few days later, the old man was discharged from the hospital. Brenda called me immediately. Her voice was syrupy sweet, all traces of her previous hostility gone. “Mia, honey, what are you doing? Are you busy?” When I didn’t answer, she chuckled nervously and continued. “My father-in-law is being released, and I was hoping you could give us a ride home. You know I don’t have a car, and he’s still too weak to walk.” “We’re neighbors, right? Just a little favor. I’ll even buy you a few cases of fruit to say thanks.” I let out a soft laugh. “I don’t think I’d dare accept any fruit from you, Brenda. A few days ago you were ready to ruin my life, and now we’re best buddies again?” “Anyway, I’m busy. Can’t help you.” I hung up before she could reply. I could just picture her fuming on the other end of the line, and it made me want to laugh. A minute later, a message from her popped up in the neighborhood group chat. [Is any kind neighbor free to give my father-in-law a ride home from the hospital?] [I asked Mia, but she refused. It’s so hard for me to manage with an elderly person all by myself…] I had to laugh. She had time to post in the group chat, but no time to call an Uber. All this to save a twenty-dollar fare. Someone replied almost instantly. [OMG, Brenda, that’s terrible.] [It’s so difficult with a sick parent. I thought you were so good to Mia’s family? I can’t believe she wouldn’t help you!] The reply was from Sharon, the stay-at-home mom who lived on the floor below us. For some reason, she’d always seemed to have it out for me, even though we’d barely exchanged a dozen words. Never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, she tagged me directly. [@Mia, you need to have a conscience. I always see Brenda bringing you guys fruit and helping you carry things.] [You can’t even help with a little thing like this?] [Everyone knows you and David aren’t short on money, and you have a car. Why wouldn’t you give her a ride?] Once Sharon broke the ice, others chimed in. [Let’s not jump to conclusions. Mia is usually very helpful. Maybe she really is busy?] [Yeah, and there are always taxis at the hospital. She can just grab one.] Some defended me, while others joined Sharon in calling me heartless. [A taxi? With a sick old man? A car would obviously be better.] [Exactly! I’ve seen Brenda’s father-in-law, he’s in a wheelchair. It’s a huge hassle to get a taxi.] Before long, a full-blown argument had erupted. No one was even talking about helping Brenda anymore. She started to get anxious. [Please don’t fight, everyone. It’s all my fault for bringing it up.] [So… is anyone able to come get me?] The group chat went silent. 5. The timing was perfect. I went into the group chat and tagged Sharon. [@Sharon Sorry, just saw this, been swamped with work.] [I seem to remember you have a car. You’re such a kind and compassionate person, I’m sure you’ll be happy to go pick Brenda up, right?] It took Sharon a long time to stammer out a reply. [I… I have to cook dinner for my son! Brenda, you should just get a taxi…] Oh? So now a taxi was a good idea? A moment ago she was saying how inconvenient it would be. I quoted her earlier message back to her. [Weren’t you the one who just said he has trouble walking? And now you’re telling her to get a taxi? What are you trying to pull, Sharon?] [It seems some people who are quick to judge others are just putting on a show.] The tide turned. Other neighbors started calling Sharon a hypocrite for trying to force me to do something she wasn't willing to do herself. Sharon panicked. She quickly tagged Brenda. [@Brenda I’m on my way now. Send me your exact location.] [I’m not like some people, who are all talk.] Brenda responded with a flood of grateful emojis, acting as if Sharon was her savior. An hour later, they were home. Brenda posted a picture in the group: the three of them—her, Sharon, and the old man. Sharon was holding a bag of fruit, and on the floor were several cases of milk. Her smile was so wide it was wrinkling her face. [Sharon is such a good person, truly a different class from some people.] [From now on, I’ll be counting on your help, Sharon! Your son is growing, he could use the extra milk.] Sharon replied instantly. [It feels so good to do a good deed! Of course, Brenda. Anything you need, just ask.] [If I can help, I will.] I looked at my phone and laughed out loud. Brenda had found her new sucker. From that day on, Brenda started calling on Sharon for everything. She never messaged her privately, always making her requests by tagging Sharon in the public group chat. Boxed into a corner by her own public declarations of kindness, Sharon had no choice but to help. She eventually replied in the group, asking Brenda to message her directly instead of “cluttering up the public space.” Brenda readily agreed, and then promptly forgot. The very next time, she was back in the main chat. [Oh, Sharon, dear, I’m just so forgetful at my age!] [I have the group chat pinned, so it’s just easier to find you here. You don’t mind, do you?] The worst part was that every time Sharon helped, Brenda would post a photo of it in the group, and the neighbors would shower Sharon with praise, making it impossible for her to refuse. One evening, I was walking past Sharon’s apartment and heard her complaining on the phone to a friend, asking for advice on how to get Brenda off her back. Before she hung up, I saw Brenda coming down the stairs, carrying a bag of fruit. She shot me a dirty look, then immediately plastered a smile on her face. “Sharon! Here, let me give you some fruit.” “It’s from my family’s garden, all-natural, no pesticides.” I kept walking toward my door, catching snippets of the conversation. “Oh, by the way, we have something to do tomorrow, could you watch my father-in-law for me…?” “Oh, it’s no big deal, you just have to change his diaper every hour or so.” I could hear Sharon desperately trying to refuse, but Brenda just talked right over her, as if she couldn’t hear a thing. Sure enough, a new notification popped up on my phone. It was another picture from Brenda: Sharon with the old man. [Sharon is an angel! She’s agreed to look after my father-in-law for me tomorrow.] [Such a kind soul is a role model for all of humanity! If anyone in this community dares to bully Sharon in the future, they’ll have to go through me first!] The neighbors filled the chat with thumbs-up emojis. [Sharon is really one of a kind. I remember his diapers need changing, right?] [Wow, Sharon, you’re so selfless. I know I couldn’t do it.] I was unlocking my door when Brenda came up the stairs. She shot me another glare and a cold snort. “Don’t be jealous of all the nice things I’m saying about Sharon. She’s just a better, kinder person than you.” She looked me up and down. “No wonder you’re still childless after years of marriage. You’re too evil to conceive.” Seeing I wasn’t responding, she leaned in, sneering. “What, cat got your tongue? Feeling regretful now?” “If you want to repent, I suppose it’s not too late. You can help Sharon take care of my father-in-law tomorrow.” “You…” My only reply was the sound of my door slamming shut and a single sentence. “You’re certifiably insane.” Furious, Brenda stood outside my door and cursed at me for ten solid minutes. 6. The next day was Saturday. Brenda and Rick took their grandson out for a day of fun, leaving Sharon with the mess. Sharon’s husband, annoyed by the situation, went out to play cards. Her son was at a tutoring class. She was all alone. From our apartment, we could occasionally hear her muffled shouts from downstairs. “Did you seriously go again?! What is wrong with you?!” “I just changed you!” “Are you even human? Can’t you hold it in?” The poor old man, unable to speak clearly, could only stammer apologies with a thick tongue. David and I just shook our heads, put on our headphones, and started a movie. We weren’t far into it when there was a knock at our door. It was Sharon. She wrung her hands, pushed the old man in his wheelchair toward our doorway, and gave my husband a bright, pleading smile. “Hey, David. Could you guys just watch him for a bit?” “I’m just one person, I really can’t handle this.” I held up my hands. “We can’t either. He’s not our father. You know who to call.” Sharon completely ignored me, keeping her eyes fixed on my husband. “David, please, just help me out. Just let Mia watch him for the afternoon. I’ll come get him tonight.” She clasped her hands together, her voice dripping with flattery. “Please, David. I’m begging you.” David gave her a flat look and said, “Not my problem.” Sharon’s smile froze on her face. Before she could recover, I grabbed the door to close it. Suddenly, Sharon stuck her arm out, blocking it. Her eyes were red, practically shooting flames. “Mia! Do you have to be like this?!” she screamed. “It’s not like you haven’t taken care of him before! Who are you putting this act on for?! This was supposed to be your job in the first place! I’ve already done half the work, and you’re still not satisfied?”
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