“I told you this idiot wouldn’t suspect a thing. New, scared of losing her job. She’s the perfect candidate.”
Sarah stopped the recording. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but this time they were tears not of despair, but of rage. They had set her up. They had chosen her specifically because she seemed weak. An easy target.
She grabbed her phone and dialed her friend Natalie’s number. She answered after the fifth ring, her voice groggy.
“Sarah? Why are you calling so early? It’s not even six.”
“Natalie, I need a good lawyer,” Sarah’s voice trembled, but there was a new resolve in it. “I’ve been framed at work. Can you help?”
“What?” Natalie was instantly awake. “Wait, what happened?”
Sarah quickly recounted everything: the interview, the first day, Veronica, the documents, the late-night call from her boss.
“Oh my god, Sarah…” Natalie breathed. “Are you at the office now?”
“Yes, I got the recorder. I have a recording that proves I was set up.”
“Good. Listen to me very carefully,” Natalie’s voice became focused, business-like. “Copy that recording to multiple places. A flash drive, the cloud, your phone. Do it right now. And then get out of the office. Don’t stay there.”
“But, Natalie…”
“They could come for you at any moment. If the director called the police, they’ll pick you up right there. Leave now.”
Sarah quickly copied the file to a flash drive, emailed it to herself, and saved it to her cloud storage. She grabbed her bag and ran out of the office. But it was too late.
Two police officers and a man in a suit—a detective, he introduced himself—were waiting for her on the first floor.
“Sarah Lawson?” the detective asked.
“Yes,” she stopped, clutching her bag.
“You’re under arrest on suspicion of grand larceny. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
One of the officers pulled out handcuffs. Sarah felt the cold metal close around her wrists. People in the lobby were stopping, staring at her. The security guard, who had been dozing moments before, now watched with curiosity.
“I have evidence of my innocence,” Sarah said firmly. “There’s a flash drive in my bag with a recording.”
“Your bag will be confiscated as evidence,” the detective replied. “Everything will be reviewed in due course.”
They led her out of the building to a police car. Sarah could see the faces of her coworkers appearing in the office windows. Someone was filming with their phone. The humiliation was public.
They took her to the station, photographed her, and took her fingerprints. Then they put her in a holding cell. A small room with an iron cot and a toilet behind a partition. The walls were covered in messages scratched by previous detainees. Sarah sat on the cot and put her head in her hands. It was happening all over again. Another court case, another fight to prove her innocence.
A lawyer arrived that evening. Kevin Forrester was a man in his forties, in an expensive suit, with a sharp, perceptive gaze. He sat across from Sarah in the visitation room and opened his tablet.
“Natalie asked me to take your case,” he began without preamble. “Tell me everything from the beginning. Don’t leave out any details.”
Sarah talked for nearly an hour. Kevin took notes, asked clarifying questions, and nodded.
“They had this whole scheme planned out,” Sarah sobbed, wiping her tears. “Veronica chose me on purpose. I was the perfect victim: new, no connections, afraid of losing my job.”
“Do you have the recording?”
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