Chapter 4 - The Workplace Ambush
Wednesday at 11:30 AM, my desk phone rang. It was corporate security at the front reception of my office building. "Ms. Vance? We have a woman down here claiming to be your sister. She’s causing a disturbance, crying and demanding to see you regarding an emergency."
I stood up, walking toward the glass walls of my office overlooking the atrium. Down below, Chloe was pacing near the turnstiles, wearing an oversized designer sunglasses and carrying a Prada handbag I had paid off two Christmases ago. She was putting on a performance for the security guards, dabbling at dry eyes with a tissue.
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"Do not let her up," I told the head of security calmly. "She is a suspect in an active police investigation regarding assault and identity theft. Please escort her off the private property immediately, and if she refuses, call the city police."
I watched from the twelfth floor as two uniformed security officers approached Chloe. When they gestured toward the exit, her sorrowful victim act evaporated instantly. She began screaming, pointing a finger up toward the office towers, her face contorted in rage. People in the lobby turned to stare as the guards firmly guided her through the revolving doors and out onto the pavement. She stood on the sidewalk for ten minutes, frantically texting on her phone, before finally getting into an Uber. My professional reputation remained spotless; hers was publicly unraveling.
