The Mysterious Call That Saved My Life

He didn't ask why I'd blocked him. He didn't explain the silence of the past days. His tone was ordinary, like nothing had happened at all.

"Felicia, that research Brenton's presenting tomorrow—is it yours?"

"Listen to me. You can't show off too much right at the start of the term. Push it back a week first…"

I played dumb. "What are you talking about? I haven't even submitted my research yet."

Stewart let out a breath. "Then it's fine. I was just worried, that's all—research this good, I didn't want it wasted."

He wanted Joanna to publish first. That way, I'd be the plagiarist.

I didn't call him out. I just hung up.

At ten the next morning, the presentations at Ashford and Brenton went live at the same time.

The moment the research titles came up on screen, the whole internet lost it.

The subject of the research—identical.

The paper—identical.

The submitted research documentation—identical.

Down to every last punctuation mark.

*Whoa, what the hell? Aside from the names, the content's completely the same?*

*Somebody copied, obviously. One of these two ripped off the other.*

The professors at Ashford and Brenton saw the comments and pulled both livestreams on the spot.

The presentations became an open mystery, blowing up all over the internet.

To keep it from spiraling, a panel of academic experts formed an investigation committee and worked through the night.

Professor Whitney called me into his office.

"Felicia, what in the world is going on here?"

"This research—are you certain you completed it on your own?"

"I'm certain."

"Then what about this Joanna Pruitt at Ashford? Why is her documentation exactly the same as yours?"

"She stole my research."

"Do you have proof?"

"Professor, it's not convenient for me to say right now."

"But don't worry. I won't let the school be embarrassed."

Professor Whitney narrowed his eyes at me.

"You chose today to present on purpose, didn't you—because you knew Ashford's presentation time?"

I said nothing.

His assistant knocked on the door.

"The committee's rented a conference room at the Seaview Hotel. They want you both there immediately."

Inside the wide conference room, the five members of the investigation committee sat at the table, faces grave.

For the public's sake, three reporters from state media had already set up livestream cameras in the room.

Joanna and Stewart sat in the chairs facing the committee.

The moment Joanna saw me, her eyes went red.

"Felicia, why would you do this? Why would you steal everything I poured myself into…"

"I trusted you so much…"

The committee gestured for me and Professor Whitney to sit, then asked Joanna, "You completed this research on your own?"

Joanna nodded. "I slaved over it for a whole year to get it done."

"Then why does Felicia Dickerson have an identical copy?"

The question seemed to open the floodgates.

Tears came down her cheeks, and her voice went thick with them.

"She's my best friend. I never kept my guard up around her. She knew all my passwords."

"She was always at my place, on my computer. I never imagined she'd actually steal my research."

"Felicia, you can take anything you like from me, but this research is everything I put into it. Just give it back to me, please…"

I blinked at her, all innocence.

"I never took anything of yours. What would I be giving back?"

"I'm not a thief. Not with things, not with people."

Stewart's brows drew together, and he cut me off, rough about it.

"Felicia, what's with the snide act? You think I don't know? You're doing this to get back at Joanna on purpose!"

"Professor, Felicia is my girlfriend. She got into the same university as me and Joanna, and she's been jealous and bitter ever since."

"I never thought she'd stoop to stealing a research project."

"I can testify to it—Felicia only ever cared about goofing off. There's no way she could have produced this project."

On the livestream, the comments ran almost entirely one way.

*Put Ashford and Brenton side by side and I'll still trust Ashford…*

*Right? An Ashford student stealing from a Brenton student—that'd be a joke if word got out.*

*Agreed. If she had that kind of ability, why didn't she get into Ashford?*

*Even her own boyfriend can't stand to watch. Tells you what kind of person she is.*

Professor Whitney couldn't sit still. He pressed me, tense.

"Felicia, stop drawing it out—explain yourself already!"

The committee spoke up too, grave.

"Miss Dickerson, do you have anything to say to Miss Pruitt's accusation?"

"I do."

I raised my hand and pointed at the two identical documents on the big screen.

Every gaze in the room followed my fingertip.

I turned to Joanna and spoke each word slowly.

"Joanna, since you're the one who did this project—"

"Then tell everyone where the watermark is hidden in the document."