Just as the manager was about to lock the doors and retrieve the full security footage, a calm voice cut through the tension.


    "Why waste all that time and money? The answer is already online."


    Juniper had settled back onto the sofa, her legs crossedzily. She lifted her gaze, a knowing look in her eyes.


    Online? Jennie pulled out her phone, confused, and opened her brand''s social media page. She was immediately blinded by a sea of notifications.


    What on earth? She personally ran the ount and rarely engaged beyond posting official announcements. She tapped into the notifications and found countless tags and mentions from other users.


    @Jennie Come see! Ynda is the one who stained the coat!


    [This woman is shameless. She ruined the coat and is trying to me the staff to avoid paying.]


    [I have a screen recording of Ynda staining the coat. Check my profile!]


    [Does anyone have the full livestream?]


    [FYI, someone just figured out the livestream ount is Ynda''s alternate ount.]


    [Oh my god, what a mess. Did she really try to stream Juniper getting kicked out, only to identally film herselfmitting the crime?]


    [Thementer above nailed it.]


    ...


    Jennie quickly clicked on the user''s profile and found the video. The clip clearly showed Ynda''s hand slipping, spilling foundation all over the front of the trench coat as the dark liquid spread across the fabric.


    "How could she do that?" a sales associate eximed, staring at her own phone in disbelief. "ying the victim after what she did... I''ve never seen anything like it."


    "The livestream is still going. Based


    on the angle, the phone must be in the store the manager said, his es scanning the room beforending on the table next to Ynda. "Ms. Sherwin, are you


    livestreaming?"


    The question made Ynda''s head snap toward her phone. At some point, the camera, which had been aimed at Juniper, had been turned around to face her directly. The chat was a waterfall of insults.


    What was going on? Why was everyone attacking her? And what was this about evidence? Had her own livestream captured her staining the coat?


    Her blood ran cold. Ynda lunged for the phone and frantically ended the stream But it was toote. Private messages flooded her inbox. Her finger slipped identally opening a link someone had sent. It was a screenshot from the video, showing her, clear as day, ruining the coat.


    In that moment, Ynda felt as if she had been struck by lightning. She stood


    frozen, her mindpletely nk.


    "Ms. Sherwin, do you have anything


    else to say?" the manager asked his voice sharp with disapproval. "This is a screenshot from your own livestream: I don''t think anyone can im it was faked."


    “I...” Faced with undeniable proof, Ynda began to tremble.


    "I didn''t mean to," she pleaded, shaking her head desperately. "I really didn''t mean


    to."


    "Oh." Jennie gave her a look of pure disgust. "Whether it was intentional or not is irrelevant. You still have to pay for it."


    She turned to the manager, her expression hard. “Draw up the bill for our customer.”


    "Yes." The manager and the rest of the staff let out a collective sigh of relief. At least they had found the culprit and wouldn''t be held responsible for the astronomical cost.


    The manager ced the bill on the table in front of Ynda. "Ms. Sherwin, will that be card or digital payment?"


    Ynda stared at the seven-figure number, her face turning a deathly shade of white.