There he was, looking furious—and dominant. He had his phone raised, still snapping pictures. And beside him, another buffoon I didn't know was filming the whole thing.
I immediately tried to cover my face, heart dropping into my stomach, panic rising like floodwater.
And then I heard something that turned my blood cold.
"Sato, please help me!" Madam Victoria cried. "I only called him here to caution him about his mistake, but then he… he lost it! He tried to rape me!"
…What?
WHAT?!
"You horny bastard!" Sato snarled, charging me like a bull. His fist crashed into my face, sending me sprawling to the floor.
The walls shook with the noise.
The commotion had already drawn eyes from outside—office doors cracked open, murmurs buzzing like flies. Panic began to rise in my throat.
No, no, no. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.
I wanted to shout, to explain, to say something that would undo the madness—but deep down, I knew.
I had been set up.
The perfect timing of Sato's entrance. The chimpanzee-looking guy recording everything, calm as if it were scripted. And that lie—sharp, sudden, and absolute—from my boss…
I didn't want to think about the consequences of this.
Apart from losing my job and dying in poverty, I could land in jail!
"P... Please, that's not true!" I choked out, still covering my bleeding face. "I didn't assault her, I swear."
"Oh, like anyone's gonna believe that, you pervert!" Sato spat, grabbing my collar. Another punch followed. Then another. And another.
"Victoria! Are you alright?" he called over his shoulder.
"I'm fine now," she whimpered. "But… if you'd arrived any later, I don't know what he would've done…" Her voice broke as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Sato's jaw clenched. "You beast. You're going to jail!"
"No! Please, I beg you!" I screamed. "Not jail! I have a mother at home! I'm her only support! Please!"
None of it mattered.
Sato dragged me like a sack of garbage through the hallway. Colleagues stared—some in confusion, others in silent judgment. Whispers swirled around me like vultures.
Then, as the security came up to me to apprehend me, I heard her—
"Wait!!"
She sprinted toward us, eyes wide with horror. "What's going on? Shephat, what are they saying about you? That's a lie, right?!"
Tears burst from my eyes. My body trembled. "Please, Alice. You have to believe me! I swear I didn't attack her—"
CRACK.
Another punch. Harder that my vision blurred. Blood dripped from my nose as my legs buckled.
"Hey! stop hitting him!" Alice shouted, rushing to shield me.
"What?" Sato sneered. "I shouldn't punish this sewer rat for trying to act above his station?"
"He said he's innocent! You can't just—"
"Then explain this."
He held up the phone.
The video.
That cursed, manipulated, out-of-context video.
The moment Alice saw it, her eyes changed.
Shock. Confusion. Disbelief. Then… disgust.
She stepped back, slowly. Her hands trembled.
"No… that's not…" she whispered.
But she didn't say anything else.
She didn't defend me anymore.
I mean, in the video I was probably squeezing Madam Victoria's boobs from an angle that possibly made it seem I was the villain.
Sato gently placed an arm around her, letting her sink into his chest while she kept watching the footage, frozen. (Still with her look of shock, she pinched him and he leapt away).
Then he turned and smiled at me.
Then winked.
At that point, something inside me shattered.
Pain. Rage. Betrayal. Humiliation. And then—self-loathing.
Security arrived and dragged me the rest of the way out. No one intervened. No one even whispered a word in my favor.
They all just watched.
I was arrested. Branded a molester. Tossed into prison like filth.
And while my life was over, my greatest fear wasn't even for myself.
It was for Mom.
She had no one else but me. I was her lifeline. Her only source of care. And now?
Now, I couldn't imagine the kind of hell she'd be facing.
And I... could do nothing about it.
*
As I sat in my cell, hands clutching my head, tears dripping onto the cold floor—
"Shephat!"
My mother's voice—frantic, filled with panic—cut through the suffocating silence.
Shame swallowed me whole. I couldn't even look at her.
"Shephat, don't worry about anything, okay?" she said, trying to sound strong. "Even if the whole world brands you a criminal, I alone will never leave you… So please, look at your mother."
Her voice trembled and it broke me. So slowly, I raised my head.
She was my mother, but somehow I looked more ancient than her.
I was 37, she was 55. But at a glance, you'd swear I was the parent and she was the child. She looked 20; and I looked well past 50.
And behind her... Alice?
She wouldn't meet my eyes. Arms crossed, gaze elsewhere, clearly fighting a mess of emotions.
Alice—my childhood friend and former neighbor—the only girl who ever acknowledged me, even with just a wave.
I'd failed her.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered, stepping closer to the cell bars. "I don't know how it came to—"
"Shhhh! Enough," she said, brushing my hair with shaking hands. "Alice has us covered."
Wait... what?
The confusion on my face said it all.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Shephat," Alice muttered. "I couldn't stand seeing Auntie cry over your sorry ass, that's all."
Ouch. But looking at her... I couldn't help it.
"Thank you, Alice," I murmured.
I'd already stopped trying to prove I was innocent. But her help meant everything.
Somehow, despite being only middle-class, Alice had always shown up for our family when we least expected it. Like a strange, no-nonsense guardian angel in skinny jeans.
"I don't want to believe that video," she said. "I want to think it was some kind of... mistake. The Shephat I know doesn't even have the balls to ask a girl out."
She giggled.
Rude much!
I could ask a girl out! Infact, I've asked tons... in my dreams and imagination.
"Thank you," I said again, this time with a deeper bow.
"But…" Her smile faded. "That job, though..."
"Yeah," I nodded. "I'm not going back anyway. I'll just find a new one."
"In this country? At your age?"
Thank you very much for the vote of confidence, pessimist.
But she was right. Things were bad. Real bad.