The Empty Vault: I Refused to Sign for the Manager's Theft

At 10:00 PM, the luxury boutique where I worked was finally closing.

Elena, the store manager, held up her right hand, which was wrapped in thick bandages. She slid the inventory sheet across the marble counter toward me.

"Chloe, I just checked the vault. Everything is accounted for."

"My wrist is sprained, and I can't even hold a pen. Just sign off on this for me so everyone can go home."

Around us, the other girls were already packing their bags, murmuring and urging me to hurry up.

I picked up the pen and was just about to sign my name.