They Called My Kindness a Crime

I’d run my company for three years. I wasn’t good at office politics. All I knew how to do was take care of my employees. At last year’s health screening, three interns were diagnosed with varying degrees of arrhythmia. I didn’t make a big deal out of it. I quietly bought three medical-grade smart bands that monitored heart rate and blood oxygen in real time. If anything went wrong, they would automatically call 911. They cost $4,800 each. I left them anonymously on their desks with a card: “Take care of yourself.” The next day, Megan Hayes hung the bands on the trash can outside our office. She posted a message in the company group chat: “Someone gave us tracking devices. Did you notice? They can track our location, listen to us, and collect our activity data.” “The more I think about it, the creepier it gets. There’s a pervert at this company.” The group chat exploded. The three interns signed a joint complaint and submitted it to the Department of Labor. Their allegation: The company was forcing employees to wear surveillance devices and violating their privacy. I printed three copies of the product manual and put them on the conference table. No one read them. I gathered the manuals, opened my laptop, and started filling out the company’s dissolution paperwork. Megan pushed open my door to demand an update. “Ethan, the client’s final payment—” I didn’t look up. “The company’s shutting down next week. Ask your next employer for it.” “The company’s shutting down next week. Ask your next employer for it.” I hit Enter and saved the dissolution application to my desktop. Megan stood in front of my desk, stunned for two seconds. Then she laughed. A short, contemptuous little sound. “Who do you think you’re scaring, Ethan?” She slapped the folder in her hand onto my desk. “We reported you, so now you’re threatening to shut down the company?” “Could you be any more predictable?” I didn’t look at her. I picked up a pen and signed several employment verification letters. “I’m not threatening you.” “I mean exactly what I said. I’m closing the company.” Megan planted both hands on my desk and leaned forward, staring me down. “Do you think playing the victim will make us feel sorry for you?” “Where was all this self-pity when you handed us those surveillance bands?” I stopped writing and looked up. I looked at the project manager I’d personally trained. When she first joined the company, she couldn’t even put together a decent PowerPoint. I’d spent two years teaching her everything and entrusted her with our biggest client. Now she stood in front of me, looking at me like I was some kind of sexual predator. “Those bands are medical-grade devices.” “You hung them on a trash can without even reading the manual?” Megan rolled her eyes. “Medical-grade? They’re cheap junk with GPS tracking and recording functions.” “You can buy trackers like that online for twenty bucks to catch a cheating partner. You think I’ve never seen one?” “You act so respectable, Ethan. I had no idea you were this disgusting behind closed doors.” “You won’t even leave the interns alone.” As soon as she finished, the office door opened. Three interns stood outside, peering in. The one in front was Lily Parker. She looked a little pale. Her medical report yesterday had noted frequent premature ventricular contractions. “Megan, the Department of Labor called back.” Lily held up her phone. Her voice trembled, but her eyes were bright. She looked thrilled to have something on her boss. “They said they’re sending investigators this afternoon.” Megan straightened and smoothed her hair. “Did you hear that, Ethan?” “This isn’t over.” “You think you can shut down the company and run? Not a chance.” “We’ve already posted pictures of the bands on the trash can.” “Now everyone online knows Starmap Media is a garbage company run by a creep who spies on his female employees.” I picked up my phone and opened Instagram. The seventh trending local topic was “Starmap Media’s Creep Boss.” I tapped it. The first post was Lily’s. The photo showed three medical-grade bands, each worth $4,800, hanging like garbage from the edge of a filthy plastic trash can. The caption read: “Workplace warning! Creepy boss gives female interns tracking devices. The more you think about it, the scarier it gets! Already reported!” There were more than ten thousand comments. “Disgusting. Companies like this need to go out of business!” “Call the cops and have him arrested!” “What does this guy look like? Someone find him!” I scrolled calmly through the vile insults. I wasn’t angry. Just deeply, utterly tired. It felt like taking off my coat in the middle of a winter night and throwing it into a frozen lake. “What do you want?” I put down my phone. Megan thought I was giving in. She sneered. “It’s simple.” “First, apologize publicly at an all-hands meeting.” “Second, pay each of us three months’ salary for emotional distress.” “Third, step down and transfer control of the company to me.” I looked at her and almost laughed. “To you?” “What, you think Starmap’s current cash flow would last you a few months?” Her expression changed. “That’s none of your business! A creep like you doesn’t deserve to run a company anyway!” The phone on my desk rang. It was reception. “Ethan, the investigators are here.” I stood and picked up the dissolution application. “Send them in.” Megan smugly stepped aside. “Try not to shake when you talk to the investigators, Ethan.”Two people arrived from the Department of Labor, a man and a woman. The man introduced himself as Reed. His expression was stern, and he held the complaint Lily and the others had submitted. “Mr. Grant, we’ve received a complaint alleging that you violated employee privacy and forced staff to wear unidentified electronic devices.” “We need your cooperation with our investigation.” Megan and the three interns stood nearby, puffed up like roosters after a fight. Lily even took out her phone and secretly started recording. I slid the three unopened manuals across the desk. “Investigator Reed, these are the manuals for the bands.” “You can verify the brand and model.” “They’re medical-grade heart monitors recently developed by Grant Medical Group.” “They have no eavesdropping function. The location feature only activates when an abnormal heart rate triggers an emergency call to 911.” Reed paused, then picked up a manual. Megan snorted. “That’s the best excuse you could come up with?” “Grant Medical? A multibillion-dollar corporation like that would make this junk?” “Medical-grade? Do you think we’re all idiots?” Lily chimed in. “Exactly! If you were really trying to help, why did you sneak them onto our desks?” “And why leave them anonymously? Because you knew you were doing something wrong!” Reed frowned and put down the manual. “Mr. Grant, a manual alone isn’t conclusive evidence.” “We’ll need to take the bands for technical testing.” “Please remain in the city while the investigation is pending.” “As for the employees’ demands for emotional distress compensation, you may try negotiating internally.” I nodded, my voice calm. “There’s nothing to negotiate.” “Take the bands for testing. As for compensation, I won’t pay a cent.” Megan slammed her hand on the desk. “Ethan! We’re trying to give you a chance!” “You want me to make this bigger? I’ll make sure you never work in this industry again!” I looked at her face, twisted with anger. “Do whatever you want.” Reed looked from me to Megan and shook his head. “If you can’t reach an agreement, we’ll proceed through the formal process.” “Where are the bands?” Lily hurried outside and brought in the three bands from the trash can. They were stained with coffee and covered in dust. Life-saving devices that cost $4,800 apiece now looked like three pieces of trash. Reed sealed them in evidence bags and left. The office fell quiet again. Megan gave me an icy stare. “You really won’t stop until you’ve lost everything.” “Fine. We’ll see how this ends.” She walked out and slammed the door. At two that afternoon, the client called. Our biggest client. Sixty percent of the company’s business. “Ethan, I saw what’s happening online.” “We may need to put next quarter’s partnership on hold.” I held the phone and watched the traffic outside. “Mr. Wilson, it’s a misunderstanding.” “Whether it is or not, the story’s already out there.” “We’re a consumer brand. The last thing we need is to get dragged into a scandal.” “I’m sure you understand. We can revisit this once things die down.” He hung up. I opened Snapchat. The company group chat was moving nonstop. Lily had posted a photo from a coffee shop. The caption read: “Day one of escaping the surveillance company. Even the air tastes sweeter!” A stream of likes followed. Other employees were making snide comments too. “I always knew there was something off about him. He doesn’t even have a girlfriend.” “Exactly. Always working late. What a freak.” “We should all quit. This place is a joke.” I muted the group. Then I called our accountant. “Linda, calculate everyone’s final pay.” “And prepare severance. One month’s salary for each year worked, plus an additional month.” Linda was silent for a long time. “Ethan… are we really closing?” “Yes. We’re done.” “Does that mean… Megan and the others get severance too?” “Yes. Every penny.” After hanging up, I went back to the dissolution application. The tapping of my keyboard sounded unusually sharp in the empty office. “You brought this on yourself, Ethan,” I told myself.By the next morning, the company had ground to a halt. No one was working. Everyone sat at their desks, whispering. When I walked out, the whispers stopped. Every face was full of contempt and suspicion. As if I were a peeping Tom who might snap at any moment. Megan stood by the water cooler with her arms crossed. “Well, look who forgot his mask today.” “Aren’t you worried someone online will recognize you and beat you to death?” A few interns covered their mouths and laughed. I ignored her, walked to the printer, and collected a stack of freshly printed documents. “Your separation agreements and severance breakdowns are all here.” “Sign, collect your money from accounting, then pack your things and leave.” I dropped the stack on the large table in the middle of the office. There was a second of silence. Then everyone erupted. “He’s really paying all that severance?” “Is this some kind of empty promise?” Megan came over and casually flipped through the papers. “You’re really committing to this wounded-victim act, Ethan.” “Think you can throw us some money and shut us up?” She picked up an agreement and pointed at it. “So this says accepting severance means giving up our right to take legal action?” “Dream on!” “We’re taking the money, and we’re still going after you!” I looked at her. “There’s no clause stopping you from suing. Read it before you open your mouth.” Megan faltered and looked more closely. There wasn’t. She stared at me suspiciously, as if I were an incomprehensible lunatic. “You’re really closing?” “What else would I do? Keep the company open so you can report me every day?” I turned toward my office. “If you haven’t signed by five this afternoon, I’ll take that as a rejection of the severance offer.” “The deadline is final.” My office door opened countless times that day. Everyone wore a different expression when they came in to sign. Some were secretly delighted. Some suspicious. Some contemptuous. But not one person asked, “Ethan, why did you buy those bands?” Not one asked, “What are you going to do after the company closes?” All they cared about was when the severance would hit their accounts. At four thirty, Lily and the other two interns came in. They weren’t entitled to the severance package because they were still interns. But I gave them an extra month’s pay anyway, treating them like regular employees. Lily signed and tossed down the pen. “Don’t think a little money means we’ll forgive you.” “The psychological damage you’ve caused us will last a lifetime.” I looked at her pale face, a sign of her frequent abnormal heartbeats. “Lily, remember to get a follow-up exam. There’s a problem with your heart.” She jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Shut up! Stop wishing something bad on me!” “Who the hell do you think you are? Pervert!” She grabbed her agreement and dragged the other two out. At five sharp, Megan came in last. She didn’t pick up an agreement. She walked straight to my desk. “Nice strategy, Ethan. Retreat so you can come back stronger.” “You’re dissolving the company to force us to withdraw the complaint, aren’t you?” I finished organizing the last document and put it in a drawer. “Megan, you think far too highly of yourself.” “I’m not dissolving the company to pressure you.” “I’m doing it because I’m sick of the filth.” Her face darkened. “Who are you calling filthy?” “Your hearts.” I stood and picked up my jacket. “Have you signed? Then get out.” Megan gritted her teeth and glared at me. “Fine, Ethan. Keep acting tough.” “Let’s see how far you get without us!” She grabbed a pen, scrawled her name on the agreement, and flung it in my face. “This isn’t over!” She stormed out and slammed the door. I bent down, picked up the paper, and brushed it off. “Don’t let the door hit you.”Half a month later, the investigation results came in. Reed called me. His tone was complicated. “Mr. Grant, we have the technical report.” “The bands are indeed professional health-monitoring devices manufactured by Grant Medical.” “They have no recording function. The location system can only transmit coordinates to emergency dispatch after an SOS alert is triggered.” “There are no privacy-invasive functions.” I was sitting in my empty office, watching the movers disconnect the computers. “Understood. Thank you.” “Mr. Grant, we’ve dismissed the interns’ complaint.” “Also, since they spread false statements online and damaged your reputation…” “You have the option of suing them.” I looked at the sunlight outside. It seemed a little too bright. “No need.” “Why not? Their actions cost you your company.” “Because it isn’t necessary.” I hung up. Sue them? That would be letting them off too easily. Real punishment didn’t always come from the law. Sometimes, it came from life itself. That afternoon, I went to the business registration office and collected the final confirmation. Starmap Media was officially dissolved. As of that day, the company no longer existed. I walked out, photographed the confirmation, and posted it to my Snapchat story. No caption. Just a period. Ten minutes later, Megan called. I declined. She called again. I blocked her. Then came the messages. “What’s this supposed to mean, Ethan?” “You actually dissolved the company?” “Are you insane? You’re just throwing away all those client relationships?” I looked at the screen and smiled. I sent one reply: “Did you collect that final payment?” Her response came instantly. “None of your business! You’re not even a boss anymore. Stop acting important!” I ignored her and closed Snapchat. A few days later, Lily called. She was using an unfamiliar number. She couldn’t hide the panic in her voice. “E-Ethan.” “It’s Lily.” I was at the airport, waiting for a flight home. “What is it?” “Well… I interviewed at a new company today.” “And?” “They asked for proof of my previous employment and a reference for the background check.” “I gave them your number.” “But… they checked the business registry and said Starmap Media had been dissolved.” “They think I lied on my résumé. They rejected me.” Her voice thickened with tears. “Could you explain it to them?” “Just confirm that I really interned for you…” I listened to the boarding announcement. “Lily.” “Yes?” “The company stamp on your employment letter belongs to Starmap Media.” “But Starmap Media no longer exists.” “In other words, that letter is just a piece of wastepaper now.” “As far as the paperwork goes, your six months at that company have been erased.” The other end went deathly quiet. I could hear her rapid breathing. “You… you did this on purpose!” “You did it to get back at us!” I smiled. “Lily, you’re the one who said the air tasted sweeter on your first day of escaping the surveillance company.” “Since you escaped, don’t come looking back for me.” I hung up, switched off my phone, and walked through the boarding gate.