I Refuse to Be Your Scapegoat

Summary

My neighbor's hand had just been severed by the elevator door, and she was screaming at my doorstep, begging for help.

I was on my knees, reaching for the plastic bag to help her preserve the severed limb, when a scrolling feed of glowing text suddenly flashed across my field of vision. It looked exactly like a live-stream chat overlay, hovering in the air.

[DON'T PICK UP THAT SEVERED HAND! DON'T TOUCH IT!]

[She chose you on purpose! The moment you lay a finger on that hand, she’ll blame you for any complications that happen down the road!]