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

“Nathan, what did they say?” Rebecca asked. 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?” Rebecca said.

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

“Let’s find out who she is.” She suggested. 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 eight 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.

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

Our office floors were different, and there was no reason our paths would have crossed even if I’d been at work. “I don’t know her. I’ve never worked with her, never met her, never even heard her name mentioned.” I said.

Rebecca’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “When did she start at Cascade? According to this, she started in May, about five months before my accident. And she’s claiming you’ve been harassing her for six weeks. That would be since mid-December.” I noted.

I checked the restraining order again. The first alleged incident was dated December 12th.

“Yeah, December 12th is when she says it started. But I’ve been in Phoenix since October 22nd.” I said. Rebecca pulled up a calendar.

“That’s almost two months after you got here. Nathan, this doesn’t make any sense unless someone is deliberately framing you.” She said.

I felt cold despite the Phoenix heat outside. Someone was destroying my life, my career, and my reputation, and I had no idea who or why.

Over the next two hours, I made a list of everything I needed: legal representation, medical documentation proving my location, and witness statements from Rebecca and anyone else who could verify I’d been in Arizona.

I also needed access to my work email to see what messages had allegedly been sent and security footage from Cascade Analytics showing whoever had been impersonating me. The preliminary hearing was in 11 days.

I couldn’t travel to Seattle yet. My orthopedic surgeon had cleared me for limited walking with crutches but not for air travel.

The pressure changes and prolonged sitting could cause complications with my healing femur. I called three criminal defense attorneys in Seattle before finding one who’d take a consultation that afternoon.

Her name was Victoria Chen—no wait, that’s a forbidden name, let me revise—her name was Victoria Lang, and she’d been practicing criminal defense for 12 years. We spoke over video call at 3:00 p.m. Pacific Time.

Lang was in her early 40s with sharp eyes and an expression that suggested she’d heard every story twice. I explained the situation methodically, showing her the restraining order, the medical records from my accident, and the hospital discharge papers with dates and locations.

Lang listened without interrupting, taking notes on a legal pad. When I finished, she sat back in her chair.

“Mr. Cross, this is one of the more unusual cases I’ve encountered. The allegations are serious: workplace harassment, stalking, threats. But you have an airtight alibi. You were physically in another state. That should be easy to prove.” Lang said.

“So why do I feel like this is going to be a nightmare?” I asked. Lang’s expression was sympathetic.

“Because the legal system doesn’t move quickly, and your reputation is already damaged. Even if we prove you’re innocent, which we will, people will remember the accusation. Your employer has suspended you; that’s on your record. We’ll need to be strategic about how we approach this.” Lang explained.

“What’s the first step?” I asked. “I need to file a motion to dismiss based on impossibility. You couldn’t have committed these crimes because you weren’t in the state.” Lang replied.

She continued that she also needed to see the evidence the prosecution had. “If someone has been impersonating you, we need to know how they did it. That means getting access to the security footage, the emails, and the witness statements. I’ll file for discovery immediately.” Lang said.

“How much is this going to cost?” I asked. Lang quoted me a retainer of $8,000, with additional costs depending on how complex the case became.

I had savings enough to cover it, but watching that money disappear for defending myself against false accusations felt like being robbed twice. I wired the retainer that afternoon.

Lang filed the motion to dismiss the next morning and requested expedited discovery given the unusual circumstances. The prosecutor’s office was a woman named Jennifer Ashford, an Assistant District Attorney with nine years of experience.

According to Lang, Ashford was thorough and fair, which meant she’d look at the evidence objectively but wouldn’t drop charges without compelling reason. While we waited for the discovery materials, I started documenting everything.