Chapter 1

In my last life, one kind gesture on a typhoon day—lending out a pair of rubber clogs—got me branded a murderer and left me dead in the street.

That day the rain came down in sheets, and the intern Narelle Fox had soaked her flats clean through.

She begged me to lend her the spare clogs from the office, then slipped in front of the time clock and lost her baby.

After the doctor examined her, she wanted to bury the truth—that days of partying had already put her at risk of miscarriage.

So she swore up and down that I'd smeared dish soap on the soles.

The whole company came after me, and her fiancé, in a rage, had me thrown into a detention cell.

I was blacklisted across the entire industry, and the day I walked out of detention, a van, driven by someone out of his mind, plowed straight into me.

Reborn, I opened my eyes right at the moment Narelle was eyeing my clogs and playing the victim.

...

"Nora Henson, it's freezing on a typhoon day. Could you lend me that spare pair of thick-soled clogs, just for the day?"

My eyes snapped open, the blur sharpening all at once.

Narelle was crouched beside my desk, both hands clamped tight around the armrest of my chair.

Cold sweat broke out along my back.

The agony of a van crushing my bones still seemed to linger somewhere in my body.

I quickly pulled my feet back under the desk. My voice came out cold and flat.

"No."

Narelle froze for a moment.

Then her eyes went red on the spot, and a clear sob crept into her voice.

"Nora, just for one day. I'll give them back before we clock out, I promise."

"My soles are soaked through. My toes are cramping."

"You've got a spare pair right there in your cabinet. Can't you cut a new hire a little slack?"

The words landed, and half the clatter of keyboards in the office stopped.

Several pairs of eyes peeked out from behind their monitors.

I looked at her coldly.

Last time, she'd crouched right here crying the same way.

I'd gone soft and lent her the shoes, and she'd raced to the time clock to protect her perfect attendance bonus, slipped, and lost the baby.

Then swore I'd coated the soles with dish soap.

I stared at that pitiful little face and spaced out every word.

"Didn't you say last time I looked like some frumpy old lady in these clogs? What, they're not ugly anymore?"

"Besides, I've got athlete's foot. Can't lend them to you."

Manager Mason strode into the office.

He slammed a stack of reports down on my desk.

"Nora, what's your game here?"

"You're a senior employee. You're her mentor."

"It's one pair of shoes. You really have to pull rank and push around an intern?"

I lifted my eyes to him.

Last time, he was the one who'd led the charge, accusing me of being jealous of the new girl.

He was also the one who'd let Narelle's fiancé come make a scene at the office.

I kicked my chair back and stood up straight.

"Manager Mason, the company has a clear dress code and a workplace safety policy."

"She chose to wear thin flats to work on a typhoon day. That's on her."

"If you feel so sorry for her, you can take off your own leather shoes and give them to her."

Mason jabbed a finger at my desk.

"Nora! You're really going to wreck the department's harmony over something this small?"

"We're all coworkers. You do understand what it means to help each other out?"

"If she gets sick, who's running today's data reconciliation? You, all by yourself?"

I sat back down and logged into the company's admin and support system.

"I have athlete's foot. It's a fungal infection. And anyway, the company over-ordered supplies for the janitorial staff a while back."

"Since you care so much about your subordinate's health, Manager Mason, I'd be happy to check with admin for you."

Eight minutes later, Liam Lawrence from admin walked in carrying a pair of black rain boots.

"Narelle, don't bother with Nora's clogs—you don't want to catch her athlete's foot."

"These are the janitorial rain boots. Wear these for now, get you through the day."

Narelle took the boots with trembling hands and muttered under her breath.

"These shoes... how am I supposed to wear these? They're so ugly."

Mason shot her a glare. "Just put them on and quit stirring up trouble."

Narelle bit her lip and took the rain boots.