I covered my best friend's shift one time, and just like that, the company's most expensive jewelry went missing.

Was I worried? Not in the slightest. My best friend? Oh, she was freaking out!

She blew my phone with one call after another. Begging me to come back quickly to work.

But I just let her calls ring out while I had a blast at a reunion with my former classmates.

In my last life, I actually picked up that call and rushed back. For what? Only to be accused as a thief right to my face!

Right then, my "best friend" turned into an Oscar-winning actress—suddenly, I was the neighborhood klepto she'd always suspected!

Apparently, I had "manipulated" her into swapping shifts just to steal that piece of jewelry!

But that wasn't enough humiliation. No, no. My boyfriend, who was supposed to be out for a business trip, came storming in. Gave me one slap across the face and a demand to pay up or else he'd dump me.

But I wasn't gonna take it just like that, so I called the cops. I swear I was gonna prove I didn't steal anything!

But what I didn't see coming was my uncle—my manager and basically family—showing "proof" to the cops.

And, lo and behold, there I was in the footage, "stealing" the jewelry and some confidential files! Oh, and I was "setting up" my best friend, too!

I felt so betrayed that my chest tightened up. Perfect timing—an asthma attack!

The whole story blew up the internet, of course. Friends, family, strangers—everyone was cursing me out, wishing me dead in the worst ways.

And just when I reached for my inhaler, someone "accidentally" sent it flying from my hand. I suffocated—that's how I died.

The craziest part? I opened my eyes, and I was back, right at the moment they accused me of that theft.

"Oh, bestie, I'm really, really grateful you covered my shift yesterday! I mean, without you, who else would've let me make it to my mom's grave? Seriously, you're basically the best friend ever! You know, any guy who marries you? Ah, he's gotta be the luckiest!"

Cheryl Madigan flashed her sweetest smile, heaping food onto my plate.

My boyfriend Chuck Givens jumped in over the phone, teasing, "Of course, my girl's the best! But any guy who tries to get close to her? He's gotta deal with me first!"

Uncle Hubert joined in, playfully scolding him. "Alright, kid, enough with the romance this early! Keep it up, and Adaline's gonna blush like crazy! She's terrible at hiding it, you know!"

Aunt Connie gave him a little slap on the shoulder with a giggle, telling him to stop teasing me.

I'd seen this heartwarming little family scene more times than I could count, but now? Now it felt like I'd just dropped into a freezer and couldn't get out.

My parents died in a car accident when I was in eighth grade. To take care of the poor little orphaned me, my aunt and uncle moved right into the villa my parents left for me.

They were so worried about "neglecting" me that they decided not to have any more kids after losing their first. Instead, they treated me like their own, their one and only.

Of course, Chuck caught on to how much my family adored me and decided he should play along. Back when we started dating, he'd spend an hour commuting just to bring me my favorite pastries from across town. And once he started working? He made sure to spoil me every single holiday—gifts, whatever I wanted.

And Cheryl? We'd been inseparable since eighth grade. She practically filled the "best friend" vacancy in my life. We clicked perfectly.

By pure "coincidence," she loved every single celebrity I did and despised scallions just as much as me. It was like we were twins separated at birth.

So, of course, I invited Chuck and Cheryl—who, just to be clear, weren't even biologically related to me—to come with me to live in my family's villa.

I thought maybe my aunt and uncle would raise an eyebrow or two, but no, they welcomed them with open arms.

Soon enough, we were one big, happy family. I even made a cute little online comic about our life together, and it picked up a decent fanbase.

The neighbors, my fans—they all looked on in awe, talking about how I'd been "surrounded by love" my entire life. Before Mom and Dad passed away, they'd treated me like a princess. Afterward, they left me an insanely big inheritance, and somehow, even more people showed up to keep loving me.

But if it hadn't been for them running around in my last life, calling me a thief, trashing my reputation, and practically throwing "proof" of my "crime" in the cops' faces…

I'd never in a million years have guessed that the family who supposedly "loved" me would team up to drag me through the mud, ruin my reputation, and absolutely crush me.

"Alright, bestie, time for work! Sure, your uncle's the manager, but we still shouldn't be late!"

Cheryl wiped her mouth and looped her arm through mine, all cozy and affectionate.

I forced a smile, biting down the urge to pull away from her little act.

Because in just three hours, the company's most valuable jewelry would be gone without a trace.

When Cheryl called me to come back to the company, I was instantly labeled as a damn thief.

Just because, apparently, I was the only one around before the jewelry mysteriously went missing. Oh, and what a coincidence—the only security footage they had was of me going into my uncle's office.

I was panicking explaining myself, almost hyperventilating.

But they just wouldn't believe me.

Even Cheryl—who I thought was my ride-or-die—almost stabbed my nose with her finger, yelling at me to "cut the crap" and "just hand over the damn jewelry!"

This couldn't be happening!

But then she crossed her arms and looked at me like I was some criminal. Said I'd always sneaked things around and was obsessed with that jewelry. So, if I didn't take it, who else did?

I was two seconds away from showing my savings to prove I didn't need to steal a damn thing—when suddenly, my boyfriend walked in, back from his business trip.

Thank God, I thought—finally, he's here to defend me!

But instead? He slapped me. Full force, right across the face. I hit the ground before I even knew what the hell happened.

"You know, I let it slide every time you took my stuff, or whatever from your family. Nothing expensive, so I thought it wasn't worth fighting over."

"But this? You actually stole from the company? A piece of jewelry worth over 13 million?! For God's sake, do you even realize what kind of hell this puts your uncle in? Adaline, are you out of your fucking mind?!"

"Your family warned you over and over—this was gonna end with you behind bars if you didn't stop! But no, you really just don't listen!"

"Now you better pay for that jewel—every damn cent! Or I swear to God, I'm gonna break up with you here! No way I'm dragging myself down over your crap!"

He was shaking his head, acting like I was the worst thing to ever happen to him.

His devastated reaction only convinced everyone. They're all looking at me like I was some shady criminal. Like I was just rotten to the core.

I was struggling to breathe, my asthma kicking in.

But to that crowd, my asthma attack was proof of my guilt. So I tried to explain...

Just as I tried, my aunt stormed over, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and started slapping the life out of me!

"You selfish little rat! Did you even think about your uncle before you did this? They entrusted those things you stole from him, and now he's gotta pay for your mess! He could face legal charges!"

"You've always been a pain in the ass, and we've tolerated it! But this? You're digging our graves! Where the hell do you expect us to get millions to fix your mess, huh?!"

My uncle always treated me like his daughter and looked out for me at work, but when he came forward, he kicked me over.

"My god, what did I do to deserve this? All these years we didn't have kids, raised you as our own, and did everything for your sake! But this is how you repay us? You're really gonna ruin our entire family?!"

My colleagues were watching, some of them recording, others cursing.

I was getting dizzy and my vision blurring from all the accusations.

But I had to clear my name. So I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to grab my phone and call the cops.

When they arrived, my devastated uncle took them to the surveillance room. Clear as day, I was caught red-handed.

There it was: me, on screen, stealing the jewelry and taking confidential files.

And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, I even took a book and dropped it on my best friend's desk to frame her.

"You've got to be kidding me! Stealing's one thing, but framing your best friend?"

"Yeah, she's too scared to admit she robbed her uncle's safe, and now he's gonna lose everything. Over 13 million dollars!"

"What a dangerous woman! Damn, she's a whole level of crazy! She's got no shame!"

"Her parents must've raised her to be a thief from day one. A born criminal! They should be accountable for this too!"

"I heard her parents died young. I bet they died because of her!"

The insults flew from all directions, and some coworkers even started to throw things at me.

Someone shoved me to the floor, and my inhaler fell out and rolled away into the crowd.

The air was thick, and I could barely catch my breath. I begged them to give me my inhaler.

But someone stepped right on it, their heel crushing it to pieces as I watched. I suffocated right there until I died.

And in those final moments, I couldn't stop thinking—why would the people I treated as family betray me like this?

How did covering for a friend's shift turn me into this scapegoat, a hated thief?

I couldn't take it. I couldn't stand being falsely accused, and I couldn't stand the idea that my parents were being dragged through the mud even though they were gone.

If I ever get a second chance, I'll be damned if I don't clear my name.

Well, the universe gave me that chance. This time, I'm gonna find out why the hell they did this to me.

And those bastards are gonna pay in ways they can't even imagine!

As soon as Cheryl and I stepped out of the villa, I was itching to ask her.

"Hey, bestie, be real with me… what do you actually think of me as a person?"

She casually looped her arm through mine and smiled.

"Girl, you're amazing! You're always so honest, you stand up for me if anyone dares to mess with me, you're not the one to pick on the weak, and you never fail to donate to charity…"

She rattled off my so-called "good qualities" like she genuinely believed it all, and honestly, that just made me feel even worse. This whole thing was starting to feel depressing.

Everything just felt… too normal.

After a while, I came up with a quick excuse and told her to go to work ahead of me.

Once she was out of sight, I secretly trailed her. I wanted to see if she'd meet someone, do something shady, anything that might feel off before heading to the company.

But nope. She just swung by a coffee shop, grabbed a cup of my favorite coffee, and went straight to work. That was it.

I decided to video-call Chuck. He picked up, his background showing clear landmarks that proved he was far from there.

If he was gonna fly back, it'd take him hours.

He must've thought I was just missing him because he started comforting me in that soft, reassuring voice of his.

"Babe, I've got so much work here, and we're short-staffed. I won't be able to come back for at least a week. But hey, how about I clear out your shopping cart to make it up to you?"

Then, he actually sent me 10,000 bucks, telling me to treat myself. Like maybe a spa day or a little shopping spree.

As he looked at me with that tender, caring expression, I felt a chill creep up my spine.

It felt like setting me up, accusing me, and dying... were just a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

But the very real, very raw pain reminded me—it wasn't a dream at all.

The more "normal" things seemed, the more certain I was that something darker was lurking beneath all this.

So, I rented a car and waited along a road my uncle usually took, tailing him just in case he'd lead me to a clue.

But he just stopped by a convenience store to buy a pack of cigarettes like he always did.

With nothing to go on, I bought myself a milkshake and sat alone in a café, trying to piece my thoughts together.

Why would my family suspect me of stealing some jewelry when, in fact, they knew I had an insane dollars of inheritance?

Why would my best friend, who supposedly knew what kind of a person I was, praise me to my face yet be the first to accuse me in front of everyone?

Why would my aunt and uncle, who once gave up having children for my sake, not only refuse to defend me when others slandered me but actually go along with it?

And why would my boyfriend, who didn't know what was happening and was out of town, suddenly show up at the scene just to accuse me?

All these questions swirled around in my head, knotting tighter and tighter. Each one made me feel more trapped, with no answers in sight.

Since I was little, whenever I felt like this—lost, confused, angry—I'd paint.

So this time, I posted my finished piece in my fan group.

Pretty soon, one of my fans reached out to me with an idea.

Her speculation was completely crazy.

But the more I thought about it, the more it made too much sense.

So, I took a cab straight to Bonaforté Legal Services.

I only knew about this place because I once got a call from there.

When I mentioned it to my uncle, he brushed it off as a scam, and I didn't think about it again.

But now, something told me I needed to check it out myself.

Once I got there, I was sure I'd made the right move.

What Atty. Bonaforté told me confirmed my fan's wild guess.

My family, my best friend, and my boyfriend acting normal? It's a well-crafted lie.

That led me to call Ira in the surveillance room. I asked him to grab my bag from my desk.

And I specifically gave him an instruction.

"If anyone asks, don't say it's for me. If they won't drop it, just say you're taking it out to throw away."

Next, I went home to pull together a few pieces of evidence.

Finally, I went to the hospital with an important item. Well, some things just need official proof before anyone will believe them.

After all that, I got a call from my high school class rep.

Just when I made it to the reunion, my best friend kept blowing up my phone.

She sounded like she was freaking out.

"Bestie! Oh, god, you gotta get back here right now! Someone broke into your uncle's safe! Some jewelry worth over 13 million... it's gone! The owner's losing it, and he's demanding we cooperate with the cops! Bestie, hurry, please!"

She didn't wait for me to answer. Just hang up like that.

In my last life, I got the exact same call at the exact same time.

Back then, I didn't think twice about it. I figured if I didn't steal anything, cooperating with cops was just the normal thing to do, right?

But why was my best friend acting so nervous—like she'd done something wrong?

And really, what good would it even do for me to show up?

Oh well, this was so obviously a trap—one set just for me.