At precisely 3:30 in the afternoon, Max stepped out of his office, got into his Cadillac, and started the familiar drive home.
Meanwhile, parked on the side of the road in an ancient, battered Toyota, Elena spotted the Cadillac making its turn at the intersection. She pulled out her phone and made a call.
"The idiot's on the road," she reported.
After receiving confirmation, she tailed him from a distance.
The road wasn't crowded, so Max drove fast. His phone rang.
"Sweetheart, can you pick up the kids?" a woman's voice said. "I'll be making chocolate cookies for them tonight."
As Max entered a narrow, two-lane road, his car jolted over a small rock, making him instinctively slow down and steer slightly to avoid the remaining gravel.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Which bastard threw that on the road?"
Just as he eased up on the gas, something at the next intersection caught his eye—a giant teddy bear mascot, holding a colorful flag that read: "Teddy Bear Clearance Sale This Weekend!"
Max's kids loved teddy bears. Even he had a soft spot for them. His attention lingered on the oversized mascot longer than it should have.
---
Across the road, hidden behind thick green shrubs, Harris straddled a battered bicycle, poised like a sprinter at the starting line.
His left arm throbbed with pain, but he gritted his teeth and focused on the teddy bear across the road, waiting for the signal.
They had rehearsed this plan multiple times. Despite his injury, Harris calculated that the probability of success was at least 60%.
He could do this.
Then, suddenly—
The teddy bear mascot flung the colorful flag to the ground.
Harris launched himself forward.
"For money!" he whispered through clenched teeth as he pedaled furiously onto the road.
For the poor, desperation gave birth to unimaginable strength.
---
Across the street, the costumed teddy bear twisted its waist, then exaggeratedly jerked its hips left and right at an almost comical speed, as if trying to shoot down an invisible plane from the sky.
Max had never seen such a ridiculous teddy bear. He almost burst into laughter.
His attention was locked onto the strange dance.
And that was when Harris shot out from behind the shrubs, his bike hurtling onto the road.
Max barely had time to react.
His foot slammed the brakes.
BAM!
The Cadillac jolted as something collided against it. A figure tumbled onto the pavement.
For a second, Max's mind went blank. Then he snapped back to reality, cursed, and unbuckled his seatbelt.
He rushed out of the car.
The impact hadn't been severe, but his stomach twisted.
An old bicycle lay awkwardly on the ground, its rear wheel still spinning. The right front headlight of the Cadillac was cracked.
A young man lay sprawled across the road, groaning in pain.
Harris didn't need to fake it. His body screamed in agony.
Max's voice shook slightly. "Are you okay?"
Harris clenched his jaw, sweat dripping from his forehead. "My arm—my left arm's broken!"
Panic flashed across Max's face. He hesitated, debating whether to just get in his car and drive away.
Then, from the intersection, the teddy bear mascot started walking toward him.
Max turned—and nearly jumped out of his skin when he recognized the face beneath the bear head.
Martin.
A bad feeling crept into Max's gut.
Martin casually picked up a small camcorder from a nearby bench and waved toward a car approaching from behind.
Elena barely slowed down. She rolled down her window, and Martin tossed the camcorder into the passenger seat. Without a word, she sped off toward their predetermined location to make a copy.
Martin turned back to Max, phone in hand.
"Mr. Max, should I call 911 for you?" he asked innocently.
Max's heart pounded. His eyes darted between Harris groaning on the ground and Martin standing there, holding the teddy bear head in one hand and his phone in the other.
Harris groaned, "Call an ambulance!"
Martin made a show of pressing the number "9" on his phone.
Max's brain raced.
He absolutely could not let the police get involved.
A regular traffic accident was one thing. But if the cops showed up and tested him, they'd find traces of drugs in his system.
And that would land him straight in prison.
Max forced a smile. "It's just a minor accident. No need to waste public resources."
He turned to Harris and softened his tone. "I take full responsibility for what happened. I'll cover your medical bills and compensate you fairly for lost work."
He glanced at the damaged bicycle. "If you have any other damages, I'll cover them too."
Harris groaned dramatically. "I'm applying to college! I was preparing for my SATs! Now that my arm is broken, my chances of getting into my dream school have dropped by 80%!"
The kindness in Max's expression vanished.
He looked at the young man's shabby clothes and the cheap bicycle.
"You can go through legal channels," Max said coldly. "Get yourself a lawyer, sue my insurance company. They'll determine the compensation."
Harris turned to Martin. "Call 911."
Two cars passed by.
Max's back stiffened. The last thing he wanted was for some good Samaritan to stop and get involved.
He let out a slow breath and forced another smile. "I'm a reasonable man. $2,000. That's my offer."
Harris pretended to hesitate. Then he sighed. "Fine. $2,000. But I want it now."
Max nodded, relieved. He went to his car, retrieved his checkbook, and wrote two checks for $1,000 each.
Harris inspected them. Satisfied, he pocketed them.
Max moved toward his driver's seat.
Just as he reached for the car door—
Martin's hand shot out and shut it.
Max turned slowly.
His expression darkened. "Can you move aside?"
Martin smiled.
"Mr. Max, I'm a responsible citizen. If I don't report an accident like this, I'll feel guilty. I won't be able to sleep for days."
Max's patience snapped. "What the hell do you want?"
Martin's grin widened.
"My new boss gave me a small camera to monitor me at work. And guess what? The lens was pointed right at this intersection."
Max froze.
His eyes flickered over Martin's body, scanning for any hidden devices.
Martin raised an eyebrow.
"You're wondering if I still have the footage on me, aren't you?" He chuckled. "Well, my boss just drove past a few minutes ago. She took the camera with her."
Max's face twisted.
Martin leaned in slightly. "So, Mr. Max… what's your price?"