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The resident in 503 had a fire in her apartment, and we in property risked our lives to get her out.
Then she turned around and reported us, said our poor oversight caused her miscarriage, and demanded a million in damages.
The supervisor put me on formal notice and wanted to fire me to give the resident "an explanation."
The troublemaking resident was thrilled with herself, selling a "tenant rights" course, teaching people how to sue their property team:
"Property staff are just guard dogs. When the master beats the dog, that's the natural order of things."
What she didn't know was that I had a piece of security footage:
The baby in her belly wasn't her husband's at all.
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"Sandra, Katherine Finch reported us."
That was my coworker, Ivy Summers.
Unit 503, Building B, the resident who lived to cause trouble, Katherine Finch?
She was in the resident group chat every single day telling the neighbors to turn off their WiFi, claiming the radiation was affecting her pregnancy.
"What's she pulling now?"
"She's saying the property team's free insect repellent caused her miscarriage."
Ivy said it, tense.
"Says the repellent had musk in it, and she wants a million in damages."
"The health department and the local district office are on their way."
My head buzzed.
Insect repellent?
It was summer, and we'd noticed the sanitation workers and the kids playing outside were getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.
So we applied for a charity fund, bought insect repellent, and set it out by the walkways for residents to use for free.
That repellent was an old, trusted brand, safe even for kids. Where would musk come from?
The health department people came fast, a whole group of them in uniform standing at the door of the office.
A middle-aged man kept turning the bottles over in his hands, checking the ingredient list again and again.
Katherine Finch showed up too, wiping at her tears while she made her accusations.
"I'm already thirty-two. Getting pregnant wasn't easy for me."
"How could you property people do something so heartless…"
More and more residents gathered to watch.
"There's no way property did that."
"My kid's been using that repellent for over two weeks, and he's perfectly fine."
Katherine Finch whipped her head around and glared at her.
"Don't talk nonsense when you don't know anything! Musk builds up slowly!"
I clenched my fists.
The health department said the ingredients would need further testing.
But they still gave us a verbal warning.
"Charity is charity, but anything your property team hands out to all the residents has to go through a proper review process."
"Get it corrected."
Katherine Finch left looking very pleased with herself.
"Just wait. You'll be paying up."
Once she was gone, our property supervisor Brandon Lawrence's face went long.
He called us into the office and slammed the door.
"Charity, charity. Did I say you could go run charity?"
"Now look. Someone's got us by the throat. Who's answering for the damage to the property company's reputation?"
"If we really have to pay a million, who's footing that?"
"There's nothing wrong with the repellent's ingredients."
I kept my anger down.
"We have the purchase records and the manufacturer's certification."
"What good is a certification? Katherine Finch had a miscarriage. She's taken it all the way to the district office. How am I supposed to explain that?"
Brandon Lawrence slammed the desk.
"Just do your actual jobs. Nobody asked you to go playing saint!"
I couldn't hold it in.
"You're the one who said, in your own words, that property and residents are one family, that we should give service with heart."
"Now something goes wrong and you wash your hands of it this cleanly?"
"Sandra Harrington!"
Brandon Lawrence's face flushed red.
"You're a property manager and you've got the nerve to talk back?"
"Fine. All of you, your merit awards are canceled, and your bonuses for the year are all docked."
"The formal reprimand goes to headquarters."
I stood where I was, my head throbbing with anger.
This was what good intentions got us?
The few of us had kept the repellent stocked through thirty-eight-degree heat all summer.
The cleaning lady brought us watermelon and we never even ate it.
Now it had all turned into a crime.
That afternoon, Katherine Finch came back and sat in the property office soaking up the air conditioning.
She didn't look anything like a woman who'd just had a miscarriage.
I pretended not to see her. She called out to stop me.
"Manager Harrington, why don't you apologize when you see me? Still not willing to admit it?"
"Your property team's sloppy. That's a fact!"
I stopped walking.
"When you were using the free repellent to mop your floors, you didn't think we were sloppy then?"
Katherine Finch's face froze.
"Mopping floors? I don't know what you're talking about."
"There's a security camera near the repellent."
I looked her dead in the eye.
"You've been filling soda bottles with repellent and hauling them home every day to mop your floors and do your laundry. Haven't you?"
Her lips trembled a couple of times, then she lifted her chin again.
"So what? Isn't the repellent there for residents to use?"
"You did a bad job vetting it, and you're blaming me?"
"My miscarriage is a fact! You people have to take responsibility!"
I couldn't be bothered to say any more.
"We'll talk when the test results are out. Property has a clear conscience."
She froze for two seconds, and her expression turned vicious.
"You just wait! Your property team bullies residents, and I'll report you again!"
That night, she posted another little essay in the resident group chat, denouncing me, saying my attitude was terrible and that I'd deliberately tried to harm her.
But no one paid her any attention.
Ivy messaged me and said she wanted to quit.
"Sandra, I can't take it anymore."
"Five years in property, and this is the first time I've felt like it's all pointless."
I said a couple of things to comfort her.
"Don't rush into anything. I refuse to believe right and wrong have just flipped upside down."
Before Ivy could reply, late as it was, Katherine Finch suddenly tagged me in the resident group chat again.
"Eight o'clock tomorrow. Come to 503 to clean the windows, mop the floors, and tidy up the place."
It made me laugh from anger.
"We're property, not a cleaning service."
"A resident's private space isn't within the property team's scope of service."
Katherine Finch flew off the handle.
"On what grounds?"
"Didn't property say we're all one big family? I'm in a special situation right now, and you just turn your backs on me?"
"Without the property fees we pay, you'd all be out on the street with nothing!"
"So the guard dog really thinks it's a person now? Offend a resident and you want to starve to death, is that it?"
