Chapter 3

Anna got there just as the video was climbing the local trending list.

She dropped her bag on my desk.

"Post the full version."

"I have to blur the faces first."

"Did that woman blur yours?"

"Her breaking the rules doesn't mean I get to be reckless too."

Anna shot me a look.

"Fine. You're the sensible one. I'll handle it."

She edited faster than I did.

We didn't add any dramatic music, and we didn't write a long accusation.

We just laid out the timeline.

The old man goes down.

The old man tells me to pull him up myself.

I call 911.

I call the police.

Once the old man hears officers are on the way, he stands up on his own.

Last came the coffee-shop footage the guy in the ball cap had caught.

The face of the man in the gray shirt was blurred.

The whole video ran four minutes and eleven seconds.

The caption I added was only two lines.

"The full sequence is here. Whether you should physically lift someone with a suspected back injury—defer to the advice of emergency responders."

Anna asked, "You're not going to call out that Gina woman?"

"No."

"She practically dug up where you work."

"The more she does that, the less I can afford to say anything careless."

"Since when did you get so patient?"

I hit post.

"It's not patience. I just don't want to hand her evidence."

The video had barely gone up when the hot dog vendor messaged me.

"What gives you the right to post me? Take it down now!"

"Your face and your voice are both altered."

"Everyone knows it's me. You got me dragged all over the comments."

"When you posted me, did you alter anything?"

She took half a minute to reply.

"What I said was true."

"What I posted is true too. And it's the whole truth."

Anna leaned in to look.

"So she does know how to be scared."

"Don't answer her yet."

The comments turned fast.

"The original video cut out the part where she called the police on purpose."

"Old man hears the cops are coming and his back's suddenly fine?"

"Who's that guy in the coffee shop across the street?"

"The girl did nothing wrong. If his back really was hurt, moving him is what's dangerous."

Some people still wouldn't let it go.

"The old man didn't shake her down, so who is she to treat him like a criminal?"

"Even if you're calling the police, you could at least crouch down and comfort him."

"People calculating like this over helping someone. There's no hope for this society."

I didn't argue.

At one in the morning, an account I didn't recognize sent me a message.

The profile picture was a food-delivery bag.

"Hi. I've seen the old man in your video before."

I sat up straight.

They sent a photo.

The old man again.

He was sitting outside a pharmacy, gripping the back seat of an e-bike.

A young man in a delivery uniform stood beside him.

"Six months ago, he said I hit him with my bike."

"I'd already stopped. He leaned into me himself."

"Then his son showed up and said he was a lawyer."

"I paid out eighteen thousand."

I replied, "Do you have a transfer record?"

"Yes."

"Did you report it to the police?"

"No."

"Why not?"

The other side went quiet for a long time.

"His son said someone by the road had filmed me riding past."

"Said the old man had a compression fracture in his spine. Said if it went to court, lost wages plus care costs would be at least sixty thousand."

"I was rushing deliveries and afraid the platform would find out. In the end I signed a settlement."

He sent over a screenshot of the transfer.

The payee was Edwin Norris.

The memo read "Robin Norris traffic accident compensation."

I asked, "Did you ever see the injury paperwork?"

"I saw one hospital report."

"The original?"

"They never gave it to me. His son just flashed it on his phone."

"What's your name?"

"Bradley Abbott."

"Can we meet and talk?"

Bradley answered fast.

"We can. But I'm scared they'll sue me."

I looked at that line, "his son is a lawyer," and thought of the gray shirt in the coffee shop across the street.

"Don't put anything online yet. Keep the original records safe."

Another line of on-screen text drifted across the top.

【He's not the only one.】

Then another.

【Go ask that pharmacy. The owner kept an old phone.】