I’m Being Charged With Threatening A Coworker In The Office. I’ve Been On Medical Leave In Another

An Impossible Accusation

I’m being charged with threatening a coworker in the office. I’ve been on medical leave in another state for 3 months.

The registered letter arrived at my sister’s house in Phoenix on a Thursday morning, forwarded from my address in Seattle. I was sitting on her couch with my leg elevated, 3 months into recovering from a motorcycle accident that had shattered my femur in four places, when she handed me the envelope with a concerned expression.

Inside was a restraining order filed by someone named Olivia Kent, along with a notice that criminal charges were pending. According to the documents, I had been threatening Olivia at our workplace, Cascade Analytics, for the past six weeks.

The restraining order cited specific incidents: confrontations in the breakroom, aggressive emails sent from my work computer, photographs I’d allegedly taken of her without consent, and a final threat made in person on January 18th where I’d reportedly cornered her in the parking garage and told her I’d make her regret rejecting me.

The problem was simple and impossible to ignore: I hadn’t been in Seattle since October 22nd. I’d been in Phoenix, Arizona, 1500 miles away with a titanium rod in my leg and enough prescription painkillers to stock a small pharmacy.

I couldn’t walk without crutches. I couldn’t drive. I hadn’t sent a single email from my work account because I’d been on short-term disability leave, and I’d never met anyone named Olivia Kent in my entire life.

I stared at the documents, reading them three times, waiting for the words to make sense. My sister Rebecca stood in the doorway of her living room, watching me with the expression she’d worn when our father died: that mixture of concern and helplessness.

“Nathan, what is this? Who’s Olivia Kent?”

I looked up at her, my hands shaking enough that the papers rustled.

“I have no idea. I’ve never heard that name before.”

Rebecca moved closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table.

“It says here, ‘You threatened her at work multiple times,’ but you’ve been here since October.”

“Exactly.”

I set the papers down and pulled out my phone, scrolling to my email.

Investigating the Claim

There was nothing from HR, nothing from my manager, no warnings, and no notifications that anything was wrong. There were just automated disability status updates and a few messages from colleagues wishing me a speedy recovery.

The restraining order had been filed 8 days ago. The criminal charges were scheduled for a preliminary hearing in Seattle on February 8th, which was 11 days away.

I was being summoned to appear in court to answer for crimes I couldn’t have committed because I’d been recovering from an accident that had nearly killed me. I called Cascade Analytics immediately.

The receptionist, a woman named Linda who’d worked there for 15 years, answered with her usual cheerful tone.

“Cascade Analytics, how may I direct your call?”

“Linda, it’s Nathan Cross. I need to speak with Douglas Hampton in HR. It’s urgent.”

There was a pause, just a fraction of a second too long.

“Mr. Cross, I’ll transfer you to Mr. Hampton’s office.”

The hold music played for 2 minutes before Hampton picked up. His voice was careful, measured in the way HR professionals spoke when they were documenting every word.

“Nathan, I was expecting your call.”

“Douglas, what the hell is going on? I just received a restraining order from someone named Olivia Kent. I’ve never met this person. I’ve been in Arizona for 3 months recovering from a motorcycle accident.”

Hampton was quiet for a moment.

“Nathan, I understand this must be confusing, but we have multiple documented incidents of you harassing Olivia. She’s provided evidence to both HR and the police: witness statements, emails, photographs. The situation is serious enough that we’ve had to involve law enforcement.”

I felt my chest tighten.

“Douglas, I haven’t been in Seattle since October. I physically cannot have done what she’s claiming. I have medical records, hospital documentation, witnesses. I’ve been living with my sister in Phoenix. How could I possibly have threatened someone at an office I haven’t set foot in for 3 months?”

“The incidents she reported occurred at the office, Nathan. She has witnesses who saw you there. She has emails sent from your work account. She has security footage timestamps.”

My mind was racing, trying to make sense of impossible information.

“That’s not possible. Someone is impersonating me or framing me or I don’t know what, but I did not do this. Can you send me the evidence—the emails, the witness statements, anything?”

Hampton’s tone shifted, becoming more formal.

“I’m not at liberty to share that information with you directly. It’s part of an active investigation. I’d suggest you retain legal counsel. The company is taking these allegations very seriously. You’re currently suspended without pay pending the outcome of the criminal proceedings.”

The Face of the Accuser

Suspended without pay for something I didn’t do, something I couldn’t have done. I ended the call and sat there, my leg throbbing with the familiar ache that came whenever I stayed still too long.

Rebecca was watching me with growing alarm.

“Nathan, what did they say?”

I explained everything: the harassment allegations, the witnesses, the emails supposedly sent from my account, and the suspension.

Rebecca listened with her arms crossed, her expression hardening.

“This is insane. You’ve been here the entire time. I can testify to that. Your medical records prove you couldn’t travel. This is obviously a mistake or someone is setting you up. But why?”

“I don’t even know who Olivia Kent is. Why would someone frame me for harassing her?”

Rebecca pulled out her laptop.

“Let’s find out who she is.”

She pulled up LinkedIn and searched for Olivia Kent at Cascade Analytics. The profile appeared immediately.

Olivia was 26 and had been working at Cascade for 8 months as a data analyst. Her photo showed a young woman with dark hair and a professional smile.

I’d never seen her before in my life. I scrolled through her profile, looking for any connection, any mutual colleagues or projects we might have worked on.

Nothing. Our departments didn’t overlap; I worked in software development and she worked in data analytics.