"What even are the specs on this thing?"

My coworker Zack slid it back across the desk, frowning hard.

I was still fixing a design draft and barely looked up. "Latest model. Core Ultra 9, RTX 5090, 128 gigs of RAM. Why?"

"No shot." Zack shook his head. "I opened Photoshop and it froze for, like, three minutes straight. My busted three-year-old laptop runs better than this. And look." He tapped the bottom panel. "There are screwdriver marks back here. Looks like somebody opened it up and slapped it back together."

My chest tightened.

I grabbed the laptop and flipped it over.

Two fresh scratches sat near the vent. The edges looked like they'd been pried up.

I went still.

Three months ago, when my cousin borrowed it, the laptop had been perfectly fine.

"You sure you didn't buy a refurbished one?" Zack asked.

"I got it from the official store." My throat felt dry. "Three months ago."

Three months earlier, right after I bought the laptop, Vivian begged to borrow it.

"Lindsay, my company's starting this short-form video project, and I'm doing the editing." She grabbed my arm, practically bouncing. "My trash laptop can't even run 1080P without choking. Yours is crazy fast. Let me borrow it for a month? I swear I'll be careful."

My mom jumped in immediately. "Just let Vivian use it. She just started her job."

I hesitated.

The laptop had cost $6,800. I'd split it into twelve monthly payments—about $565 each month.

As a designer, my laptop was basically my life.

Vivian held up a hand like she was taking an oath. "One month. That's it. I'll give it back the second the project's done. I'll keep it clean. I won't mess with anything."

I believed her.

One month turned into three.

The first month, she said the project got delayed.

The second month, she said she'd picked up another project.

By the third month, she was telling me to quit bugging her about it.

When Vivian finally returned it, she didn't even come herself. She left the laptop with security and took off.

Now it was back.

But were the parts inside still mine?

"Can you check the inside for me?" My voice shook.

Zack grabbed a screwdriver set and popped off the back panel.

Click.

He went still.

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"This is the maxed-out version, right?"

"Yeah."

"The original motherboard assembly should have a specific laser marking." He pointed at the chip under the heatsink. "But this one's shallow, and the edges look rough. Somebody re-marked it. And the RAM—factory models use custom low-profile sticks. These are standard ones." He frowned. "They're used."

He flipped one over. A faint pencil mark sat in the corner.

"That's a common reseller mark." His voice got heavier.

He powered the laptop on and started running benchmarks. Numbers filled the screen one after another.

The CPU score was way below factory spec.

The RAM speed didn't match the original setup.

The SSD speeds were barely a third of what they should've been.

And the GPU memory had been slashed to 4GB.

My knees almost gave out. I grabbed the edge of the desk to keep myself upright.

"You should probably call the cops," Zack said.

I shook my head and snatched up my laptop bag. "I'm going to an authorized service center first. I want everything in writing."

I took a few hours off and went straight there.

The AC was blasting, but I was still sweating through my shirt.

The tech, wearing white gloves, slid the inspection report across the counter.

"Miss, this is pretty obvious. Most of the hardware inside your laptop was swapped out by an unauthorized repair shop."

He went down the list one item at a time.

The motherboard assembly had been tampered with. The CPU ID had been spoofed to show as a Core Ultra 9. The RAM was used. The SSD was some cheap off-brand replacement.

My voice shook. "Can you tell when it was replaced?"

"Based on the system logs, the original factory hardware was last detected three months ago. After that, there are signs the data was wiped."

Three months ago.

Exactly when Vivian borrowed the laptop.

"How much are these parts worth now?"

"Used market value? The motherboard assembly's maybe worth $400. The two RAM sticks, around $80. SSD, maybe $40. Altogether, under $600."

"What about my original parts?"

"Your original motherboard assembly, including the CPU and GPU, would be worth around $3,500. The RAM, about $500. SSD, around $600. Just those three components alone are worth roughly $4,600."

$4,600.

$600.

A $4,000 difference.

"What about the warranty?"

"Opening the laptop and replacing parts without authorization counts as user damage, so it's not covered. And since the original hardware's gone, that's considered property loss. You'll need to contact whoever borrowed it."

I paid the inspection fee and took the certified report.

***

The second I walked outside, I called Vivian.

She picked up on the sixth ring. Loud music and chatter blasted in the background—sounded like she was at the mall.

Her voice was lazy. "Hey, Lindsay."

"Vivian, we need to talk about the laptop."

"The laptop? Didn't I already give it back?"

"I went to the authorized service center today. The report says the motherboard assembly, RAM, and SSD were all swapped out for cheap used parts."

Silence.

Then—

"What?"

"The original $4,600 hardware was replaced with maybe $600 worth of cheap used parts. That's a $4,000 difference."

"What are you trying to say?" Her voice jumped an octave. "You think I swapped your parts? Why would I even do that? I don't know anything about computers!"

"Two months ago, you said the laptop kept crashing and you took it somewhere to reinstall the system."

"Yeah! They just reinstalled Windows! That's it!"

"What shop was it?"

"I—I don't remember! Just some random repair place downstairs from work!"

"Does reinstalling Windows require opening the laptop and replacing hardware?"

"How would I know? I wasn't standing there watching them!" Her voice turned sharp. "Lindsay Lane, you cannot seriously think I told some repair shop to steal your parts. Why the hell would I do that? What would I even get out of it?"

"What would you get out of it?" I repeated. "Maybe you figured I'd never notice. Or maybe you just didn't care."

"That's insane!"

"I have the certified report right here. You owe me $4,000."

"Four thousand dollars?!" she shrieked. "Are you serious right now? I borrowed your stupid laptop and suddenly you want four grand? What, you think I'm made of money?"

"It's not a stupid laptop. It's a high-end work machine. And I'm not asking for free money. $4,600 worth of my hardware was replaced."

"I didn't do anything! I didn't!"

"Tomorrow afternoon. Starbucks. We're talking face-to-face."

"I have nothing to say to you! If you wanna talk, tell your mom to call my mom!"

She hung up on me.

I stood there on the sidewalk, my hand shaking so hard I could barely hold my phone.

Four thousand dollars.

To me, that was rent, gas, bills, and the certification course I'd been saving up for.

To her, it was probably just a couple designer bags and makeup runs.

And I was supposed to just let it go?

***

When I got home, Mom was already parked in the living room.

The second I walked in, she started.

"Lindsay, what's going on? Vivian just called me sobbing. She said you accused her of stealing your laptop parts and demanded four grand."

I pulled the inspection report out of my bag. "Mom, read this. It's from the authorized service center."

She didn't even take it. "I don't understand any of that tech stuff."

"The hardware was swapped. The original parts were worth forty-six hundred. What's in there now is $600 worth of garbage."

She frowned. "What are you trying to say? Vivian's your cousin. You really think she'd replace your laptop parts?"

"It happened while the laptop was with her."

"That doesn't prove Vivian did it. What if the repair shop did something? She's just a girl. How would she even know about this stuff?"

"Maybe she doesn't. But she handed my laptop to someone who does. Then acted like nothing happened."

"Maybe she didn't know either—"

"For three months?" I cut in. "The laptop got that slow, and she never noticed? She was editing videos and gaming on it."

Mom went quiet for a second, then her face hardened.

"So you're really gonna ruin your relationship with her over this little bit of money?"

I looked at her, at the disappointment written all over her face, and something cold settled in my chest.

"Mom, it's four thousand dollars. Since when is that 'little money'?"

"You make almost three grand a month, right? Is four thousand really worth tearing the family apart over?" She crossed her arms. "Vivian just started working. She barely makes two grand a month. Making her pay that much would crush her."

I suddenly couldn't breathe right. "Mom, that laptop cost sixty-eight hundred dollars. I'm paying it off in monthly installments. I still owe five-sixty-five every month. The thing isn't even paid off yet, and it's already wrecked. Why shouldn't she pay for it?"

Mom let out a long sigh, her voice softening. "I know this is hard for you. But Vivian's your cousin. I'm worried you'll destroy the relationship. Your aunt spoils her enough already. If you keep pushing this, how are our families supposed to get along afterward? What are people gonna say about you?"

I stared at her. "What are they gonna say?"

"They'll say you're immature. That you're fighting family over money."

"She trashed my property first," I said slowly. "If I let this slide, what's next? My camera? My car? Borrowing money and pretending to forget about it?"

"You really are impossible sometimes!"

"That's enough." I headed for my room. "Stay out of it."

***

The next day at two, Starbucks.

My mom insisted on coming. Said she was "afraid you two would start fighting."

Vivian showed up thirty minutes late.

And she didn't come alone.

Her mom, Aunt Melissa, came with her.

The second Vivian looked at me, I saw zero guilt. Just annoyance and attitude.

Aunt Melissa frowned like I was the one being ridiculous.

Vivian dropped into her seat first. "Lindsay, did you drag me out here to interrogate me?"

"I just want to clear this up."

"What's there to clear up? I already told you, I didn't replace anything!"

"Then how'd every part inside the laptop get swapped?"

Her expression hardened. "What are you trying to say? That I did it on purpose? Like I have nothing better to do?"

"Then explain how this happened."

"How would I know?" Her voice shot up. "I used it normally. It crashed once, so I took it to some repair place downstairs to reinstall the system. That's it."

"Which shop? What was it called?"

"I told you, I don't remember. Just some little repair place. Who memorizes that stuff?"

I slid the inspection report across the table.

Vivian glanced at it but didn't touch it. "I'm not reading that. I wouldn't understand it anyway."

"It's from the authorized service center, stamped and everything. The motherboard assembly, RAM, and SSD were all swapped with cheap used parts."

"You really believe that repair shop crap?" she said with a sneer. "They're obviously trying to scam you."

"This is an authorized service center. Not some random repair place."

"Whatever." She crossed her arms. "You already decided I'm guilty, so why even ask me anything?"

Aunt Melissa finally jumped in. "Lindsay, Vivian would never do that. She's just a girl. What does she know about laptop hardware? It was probably the repair shop messing with it."

"She picked the repair shop. She says she doesn't remember the name. The laptop stayed with her for three months, and it came back gutted. Why shouldn't she be responsible?"

"Responsible for what?" Vivian snapped. "Do you have proof? Did you actually see me swap the parts?"

"The proof is that it was perfectly fine when I lent it to you. It was wrecked when you gave it back. The timeline's obvious."

"Obvious my ass!" She shot to her feet. "I'm telling you right now, I'm not paying a single cent. If you want to sue me, then do it. Let's see what a court can even do to me."