Mrs. Tate backed her up immediately, acting like she was being reasonable while hinting my character was "questionable" and saying the low fee had always seemed "suspicious."

The mood in the chat started changing.

[Really? Annie doesn't seem like the type.]

[But Mrs. Couser sounded pretty certain. That necklace was worth $3,000.]

[Sigh. You never really know people. Maybe the whole one-cent thing was just to gain everyone's trust.]

[Honestly, maybe it's better this way. At least nobody has to worry anymore.]

The residents' group chat was just as chaotic.

Misled by Mrs. Couser and Mrs. Tate, people who had no clue what actually happened started blaming me too.

A few tried defending me, but their messages were buried almost instantly.

The resident rep texted me, clearly annoyed.

[Annie, you're being way too impulsive about this. Mrs. Couser was obviously just emotional. You could've explained things instead of shutting the whole pickup station down. Now everyone's inconvenienced because of this. You're putting all the residents in a difficult position.]

I stared at the message, my chest going cold.

Explain?

Did Mrs. Couser or Mrs. Tate ever give me the chance to explain?

When they were smearing my name and humiliating me, why didn't anyone stand up for me?

But now that the station was gone and everyone's convenience disappeared, suddenly I was the problem?

I replied right away.

[I was publicly accused of stealing without a shred of proof. My reputation and dignity were seriously damaged. Until I receive a public apology, the pickup station will stay closed. And as for everyone's convenience, I'm sorry, but that's not my responsibility anymore.]

I never bothered checking his reply.

***

Packages started piling up outside again.

And this time, without the pickup station organizing everything, the hallway looked even worse.

Residents came by to pick up their packages, all with different looks on their faces.

Some looked awkward and lowered their voices. "Annie, don't take it personally. Mrs. Couser's always like that..."

Others acted cold, grabbed their stuff, and left like I was disgusting.

And some dug through the shelves while complaining out loud.

"Awesome. Now there's nowhere to put packages."

"Some people really can't handle criticism. One little accusation and she quits on everybody."

"Should've never let her run the station to begin with. One cent? That was probably a cover."

Those words hit harder than being cursed out directly.

All the time and effort I put in meant nothing to them.

Worse, it became the reason they suspected me.

Mrs. Nolan from across the hall quietly told me the truth.

Mrs. Couser had bought the pricey necklace behind her husband's back using money she'd secretly set aside. Her husband had a terrible temper, and now that the necklace was missing, she had no way to explain it.

She saw that I kept to myself and seemed easy to push around. Since the necklace disappeared at the pickup station, she dumped the blame on me.

As for Mrs. Tate, she just loved drama and wanted to act smarter than everyone else by stepping on me.

I thanked Mrs. Nolan.

I knew this wasn't over.

But without proof, anything I said sounded weak.

Was I really supposed to live with being called a thief while they walked all over me?

Just when the pressure in my chest felt unbearable, my phone lit up.