— Narrated by Rozze
Inside, something twisted.
Ina and Ayaan suddenly ran toward me, their small footsteps echoing across the hall. The moment they reached me, the air around us changed.
Whispers began.
Low. Sharp. Unkind.
Staff members leaned closer to one another, pretending to discuss work while their eyes stayed glued to their phones.
Jiya walked up to me quietly and leaned in.
"Open your phone," she whispered. "Now."
At the same time, Saim pulled his phone out of his pocket.
I unlocked my screen.
A video.
The same woman.
The same makeup room.
The same anger.
She was shouting at Riva—accusing her of causing rashes on her child's skin.
But something was missing.
Riva wasn't visible in the frame.
Only the background was clear.
A small company poster hung behind her.
Rozze felt a strange heaviness settle in her chest as she scrolled past the comments.
People never wait for the truth, she thought. They only wait for drama.
Every line felt sharper than the last — accusations, hatred, assumptions typed by people who had never stepped inside the company, never seen the sleepless nights, the fabric trials, the bruised fingers and broken needles.
She locked her phone for a moment and looked around.
Employees stood in small circles, whispering. Some looked angry. Some scared. Some… defeated.
"This isn't just a video," Rozze said quietly, almost to herself. "It's an attack."
Saim lifted his head at the same time she did. Their eyes met — not as CEO and employee, but as two people who understood exactly what was at stake.
"This… isn't possible," I whispered.
I felt it then—
like all our effort had suddenly turned into something dangerous.
I looked down at Ina and Ayaan.
"Both of you," I said gently, forcing a smile, "go play in the park for a bit. Right there. Okay?"
They nodded and ran off, unaware of the storm forming behind them.
"This looks intentional," I said quietly. "Someone edited it to destroy the project. The video isn't complete. The truth isn't here."
"Read the comments," Jiya muttered.
Around us, people were scrolling.
"This is disgusting."
"Why do people play with others' lives like this?"
"We worked so hard on this project…"
One employee spoke up, voice shaking.
"Our earlier videos were trending because of our effort. And now this one—this is going even higher."
"Enough," Saim said firmly.
The room went silent.
"We'll settle whose mistake this was later," he continued, his tone cold. "Right now, we need a solution."
He looked around.
"The rest of you stay here and manage things. Everyone who was present in the makeup room—come to the company."
Later, I was driving.
Jiya sat beside me, scrolling endlessly.
Ina and Ayaan were asleep in the backseat, holding each other's hands.
"Stop looking," I said softly. "The more you watch, the worse it'll feel."
"I know," Jiya replied. "But we worked so hard. Especially the CEO."
I glanced at the road.
"The design team must've done most of it."
"This project was different," she said. "It was his biggest one. He personally selected designs, decided placements, even handled permissions. He went there weeks ago."
"He's only been here for a couple of months," I said. "And look at the results. Deals are strong. Sales are rising."
"But what if this ruins the company's name?" she whispered. "Everyone's effort could go to waste."
I didn't answer.
Some time later, we reached home.
Ryan's door was still closed.
"Looks like Ryan isn't home yet," I murmured.
Inside, I put Ina and Ayaan to bed.
Jiya sighed.
"Should we leave? We still have overtime… beyond overtime."
I nodded silently.
At the same time, in the meeting hall…
Employees filled the room, murmuring anxiously.
A girl leaned toward Riva and whispered,
"You survived for now. But what about later?"
Riva swallowed.
"I'll apologize. But what did I even do wrong?"
The door opened.
Saim walked in.
Everyone took their seats instantly.
He stood at the front, voice calm—but sharp.
"It's late. You're all tired. But this is about our company."
He paused.
"The video is spreading fast. Some are supporting us. Many are not."
"How do we stop it?" someone asked.
"We contacted the woman," Saim said. "She'll clarify her stand."
Riva spoke hesitantly.
"So… everything will be fine?"
"No," Saim replied. "This isn't that easy. Her support alone isn't enough. People might accuse us of paying her."
"We need proof."
He looked around.
"I wasn't there. You were. Did anyone notice anything unusual?"
Jack stepped forward, holding up a tablet.
"The account that uploaded this video is strange."
Everyone turned toward him.
"The last upload was a long time ago," Jack continued. "And it was… our company's video. An edited one. Against us."
"So they want to harm us," Saim said.
"Maybe," Jack replied. "But years ago, the same account uploaded a positive video about the company."
Saim placed both hands on the table, thinking.
"So the enemy was created inside."
He looked up.
"Where are the IT team?"
"Miss Miren and Miss Jiya came earlier," someone answered. "They went straight to their department."
In my cabin, Jiya and I searched through forms scattered across the desk.
"Why are we looking for that woman's form?" Jiya asked suddenly.
"Do you remember," I said slowly, "when she was shouting… there weren't many people inside."
Jiya frowned.
"You mean someone was recording?"
"I saw two participants holding their phones."
"So one of them uploaded it?"
I shook my head.
"The angle doesn't match. Someone was filming from a distance."
"But then whose form do we find?"
"We don't," I said quietly. "That person wasn't a participant."
She stared at me.
"Then what do we do?"
"We contact the two participants who were filming. They must have the full video."
"But why would they help us?"
I smiled slightly.
"You'll see."
I picked up a form and dialed.
No answer.
Another form.
I froze.
Then dialed again.
"Hello?" a woman's voice answered.
I put it on speaker.
"Congratulations, Miss Ryn," I said warmly. "You won first prize today."
Jiya's eyes widened.
"Thank you," Ryn replied. "But… who is this?"
"I'm Rozze Miren, from Digital Fashion & Designs. I gave you the invitation card."
"Oh—of course!" she laughed. "How could I forget? You were genuine. Not like others who pretend."
"Thank you," I said softly. "I need a favor."
"Yes?"
"You recorded a video in the makeup room."
She paused.
"Yes. You came in later too, didn't you?"
"You've seen what's happening online," I said. "Will you help us?"
"I will," she replied. "On one condition."
"What is it?"
She told me.
I thought for a second… then smiled.
"Deal."
I ended the call.
Jiya stared at me like she had just witnessed magic.
"You planned that?"
Rozze exhaled. "No. I trusted my instinct."
She leaned back, closing her eyes for a second.
"How does your brain even work?" she laughed.Jiya said.
"Family inheritance," I replied smugly.
Later, in Saim's cabin…
Jiya and I sat on one sofa.
Saim and Jack on the other.
I handed the tablet to him.
"The full video," I said. "The child didn't react because of our costume—but because of a mango allergy."
Saim nodded.
"Can she upload it?" he asked.
"She already has."
Positive comments were rising.
The edited video was being questioned.
"The sales are safe," the MD said with relief.
"Not yet," Saim replied coldly. "Go home. It's late."
As Jiya and I walked out, Saim called,
"Miss Miren—"
I stopped.
But Jack shot him a look.
Saim fell silent.
Jack handed me my tablet.
"Yours."
"Thanks."
As we left, Jack stared at Saim.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Saim snapped. "I'm your boss."
"You're dropping me home," Jack replied lazily.
That night, at Saim's place…
Jack collapsed on the sofa.
"I'm exhausted. Let me sleep."
"Go to the room!" Saim yelled.
Jack threw a pillow at him.
"Shut up."
Saim muttered,
"I'm the boss and still get no respect."
"By the way," Saim added, "your salary—"
"I already got it," Jack grinned.
Saim's smile vanished.
"Next month I'll cut it."
"Make good breakfast tomorrow," Jack said, closing his eyes.
At my apartment door, I paused.
Ryan's door was still closed.
"Not even a call," I murmured. "Must be night duty again."
I went inside.
Later that night, Saim stared at the tablet again.
The positive comments were rising.
Sales graphs stabilized.
Everything looked… fine.
And yet—
"I knew this would happen," he muttered.
Jack frowned. "What?"
Saim's eyes darkened.
"When enemies fail once," he said slowly, "they don't stop."
Somewhere else, on a different screen, a new notification blinked.
Draft saved.
Upload pending.
===========================
I didn't know who had started the fire
but I knew one thing for sure.
This time, it wasn't going to burn quietly.