Then came the critical question: "Was this the only incident? Or did the phone also fall in water or get bent?"

Wait. AppleCare.

She picked it up. A spiderweb of cracks radiated from the top left corner. A small shard of glass flaked off onto her finger. Her heart sank. The presentation deck, the client notes, the visual aids—all behind that shattered window.

That evening, Sarah looked at Mochi, who was innocently licking his paw on the sofa. She didn’t even get mad. She just ordered a sturdier phone case and whispered, "Worth every penny."

Mochi, in a sudden burst of "the zoomies," launched himself off the bookshelf. The charging cable, looped around a stack of notebooks, went taut. Sarah’s phone, attached to the other end, flew like a ceramic plate. Time seemed to slow as it arced through the air, spinning end over end. The screen met the corner of her granite kitchen island with a sickening crack .