Chapter 2

"Come on, Chloe, don't be so petty!"

"It's just a lunch. Why do you keep making excuses to say no?"

"Besides, it's not like I'm asking for free. I pay you five dollars every single time. Not a penny less."

Mia tossed her plastic Tupperware onto my desk, her voice dripping with irritation.

Looking at her smug face, I almost laughed out loud.

This was exactly how it started in my past life. Every day at noon, Mia would shove her lunchbox in my face. One day she wanted steak, the next day she wanted salmon, and the day after that she'd complain the veggies weren't organic.

Back then, I thought we were friends. I would wake up at 5:00 AM, go to the premium market to buy the freshest ingredients, and spend my entire morning cooking. I never asked her for a dime.

Occasionally, she would throw a five-dollar bill on my desk and say, "Here, Chloe, five bucks. That's more than enough for the groceries. Consider it me supporting your little hobby."

I thought she was struggling financially, so I never complained.

Only later did I find out that she saved her lunch money to buy expensive cigars and whiskey for her husband. She even bragged to her mother-in-law: "That idiot at my office cooks for me every day. I get gourmet meals for basically free."

I didn't even look up from my computer.

"Then pay someone else to do it. I don't need your five dollars."

Mia froze. Her eyes welled up with tears in an instant.

"Chloe... what is wrong with you today? Did I say something to upset you?"

"If you didn't want to do it, you could have just told me. It's not like I'm forcing you..."

"I only asked because I know how clean your kitchen is. I'm just terrified of getting food poisoning from takeout. It's bad for the baby..."

Mia lowered her head, gently cradling her slightly bumped belly, looking like a fragile victim I had just publicly bullied.

"You know I'm pregnant. Fast food is so greasy, and a decent healthy meal costs like thirty bucks around here. My salary is low, Chloe. I can't afford to order door-to-door delivery every day."

"I just wanted something homemade and safe for my baby. And I always paid you the market rate!"

Mia sniffled, looking at me with a deeply hurt expression.

"You were always so happy to help me before. I thought of you as my best friend."

"It's just a simple lunch. Why are you being so hostile?"

"Is it... is it because of the money? Do you want more?"

As soon as Mia finished her little speech, Sarah, a senior colleague sitting nearby, quickly handed her a tissue. She patted Mia's shoulder and glared at me.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Chloe! Look how upset you made her. She's pregnant, in case you forgot. It's just making an extra portion of lunch. Is this really necessary?"

"You've been doing it fine all this time. Why the sudden attitude? Refusing to help a pregnant coworker over such a small thing... what is wrong with you?"

Mia wiped the corner of her eyes, sobbing softly.

"It's fine, Sarah. I'll just go buy something. I don't want to be a burden..."

Several people in the open office turned to look at us. Someone whispered, "It's just lunch. Why is she being so mean to a pregnant woman?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on, Chloe, just help her out."

"Why don't you do it then, Sarah?" I snapped back.

Sarah choked on her words. "I... I don't have the time!"

"You eat lunch every day, don't you? Just make an extra box. Since it's 'just a small thing,' it shouldn't be a problem for you."

Sarah shut her mouth instantly, looking away.

Mia's voice trembled. "But Chloe, you've always done it..."

"Yeah, I did it for six months. Steak, salmon, organic greens. And you gave me five dollars. Do the math, Mia. What does five dollars buy in this city?"

"Five dollars can't even buy you a coffee, let alone my labor. If Sarah or Justin wants to take your five-dollar budget, be my guest. I won't stop them."

Mia stood frozen, unable to utter a single word.

Sarah and Justin immediately glued their eyes to their computer screens, pretending they hadn't heard a thing.

At 2:00 PM, while I was deep in my spreadsheet, the glass doors of our office were violently kicked open. Dylan, Mia's husband, stormed in. His roaring voice echoed across the entire floor.

"Chloe! Who the hell gave you permission to feed my wife spicy food? You killed my son! Do you hear me? You killed him!"

Mia followed closely behind him, her eyes swollen and red from crying.

"Honey... I told her not to put anything spicy in it... but she still bought it for me..."

"As soon as I took a bite, my stomach started hurting so bad... Our son... is our son going to be okay...?"

Dylan wrapped his arm around her, pointing a thick finger at my face. His skin was flushed a disgusting shade of purple.

"You explain to me right now! My wife is five months pregnant. She hasn't touched a single drop of spice! Why did you feed her chili?"

"Our family superstition says spicy food destroys the male energy and ruins the boy baby! If my son turns into a girl or miscarries, you are going to pay for it!"

I stared at Mia, my expression entirely calm.

"You claim I poisoned your baby with spicy food? Great. Let's go to the police station right now and let them investigate."