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Framed for Saving Her Life Novel Cover

Framed for Saving Her Life

Attempting to protect his female neighbor from a late-night stalker, a man leaves his own leather shoes outside her apartment to ward off danger. Instead of gratitude, he is met with fury. The neighbor catches him in the act, brands him a pervert, and posts his photo to the community group chat. As public outrage erupts and his reputation is ruined overnight, he decides to withdraw his protection. From now on, whatever knocks at her door is no longer his concern.
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Chapter 3

3: 3

But I never expected that same night to see the dark figure in the stairwell again.

He was crouched in the shadow of the hallway, half his body pressed to the wall, working at the lock on the neighbor's door.

Every drop of blood in me froze.

Get involved? Last time I got involved, my mother was still lying in a hospital bed.

Stay out of it? That figure was creeping closer to her door.

I gritted my teeth and yanked out my phone. Before I could turn on the flash, all the screen showed was a smeared blur.

The figure heard the noise, spun around, and bolted downstairs, footsteps pounding on the steps, gone in a blink.

I gripped my phone and walked up to her door.

My hand rose halfway, hung there for two seconds, then dropped back down.

Let her deal with it herself. I said I was done, so I'm done.

I'd barely turned around when the door behind me flew open.

"I knew it was you!" the woman screeched. "You pervert, camped outside my place again! Were you the one just now messing with my lock?!"

I didn't stop. I kept walking toward home.

"I'm calling the cops! Right now!" She snatched out her phone and dialed. "There's a pervert crouched outside my door, stalking me, and he tried to pry my door open!"

I was shaking with anger. I turned and shoved my phone in her face. "Look. That's who was at your door just now. Not me."

She glanced at the blurry figure and slapped the phone out of my hand. "Keep acting. Go ahead, keep it up!"

"You get some accomplice to fake a stalking, then jump out and play the hero, so I'll thank you, is that it? That cheap little routine of yours, who do you think you're fooling?!"

"My mother's still in the hospital. You think I've got nothing better to do than put on a show for you?" I clenched my fists until the knuckles cracked.

"Oh, dragging your mother into it now?" Her laugh was shrill and vicious. "No wonder she's lying in a hospital bed. That's karma for all the rotten things you've done!"

Doors up and down the hall opened one after another.

"Him again? Even the banner in the daytime couldn't scare him off. The nerve on this guy."

"Come on, kid, that's enough. Just apologize to the girl. Getting the police involved makes everyone look bad."

"If you ask me, he staged the whole thing to win her over. I've seen plenty of creeps like him."

I clenched my jaw and said nothing. Not two minutes later, two officers came up the stairs.

The moment she saw them, her eyes went red. She dabbed at her tears and shrank behind them.

"It's him! Harassing me in the middle of the night, and he even planted a screwdriver as a prop for his little act!"

I bent down to pick up the screwdriver by my feet, the one he'd used on the lock. My fingers had barely touched it when she kicked it down the stairs, and it clattered down two flights.

The officers frowned. One crouched to pick it up, then looked at my cracked screen.

"The photo isn't clear, and the physical evidence can't be directly tied to anyone. We'll pull the complex's security footage tomorrow. In the meantime, keep your doors and windows locked, and call us right away if anything comes up."

The woman blew up on the spot. "What do you mean?! It was him! Why aren't you arresting him?!"

"Ma'am, we work from evidence." The officer's voice dropped.

The onlookers murmured among themselves. Low, but every word bored straight into my ears.

"The evidence is right there and they still won't arrest him. He must have connections."

"See how he doesn't even defend himself? Clearly guilty."

I stood where I was, and the fury I'd started with cooled into something cold and hollow.

By the time I got back from giving my statement, they were still clustered in the stairwell, pointing and whispering.

I lifted my eyes and swept the crowd of gawking neighbors, then fixed my gaze on the woman's face. Word by word, I said, "Listen carefully. If I ever lift a finger for your problems again, you can call me a lowlife."

Then I turned and went back inside, and the talk behind me shot up at once.

"See that? Guilty! Nothing to say, so he just spews threats!"

"Even after the cops showed up he still won't admit it! What a piece of garbage!"

"Let's see if he ever dares harass anyone again!"

The woman's voice was smug. "I told you he'd slip up!"

I didn't look back. I went inside and bolted the door.

The world finally went quiet.

I picked up the blood pressure pills on the table, ready to take them to my mother the next day.

But the next evening, the moment I got to the hospital,

the phone in my pocket suddenly buzzed like mad.

I opened it. At the very top was a video.

The neighbor's tearing, screaming sobs exploded out of the room. "Help! Someone's prying my door open!"

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