My Bestie Reported My Fake Degree, But My Real Identity Terrified Her Chapter 03

My Bestie Reported My Fake Degree, But My Real Identity Terrified Her Chapter 03

“Is Lynn Hart on leave? Why hasn’t she been here for two days straight?”

Jordan, the new intern, asked the question casually. The question wasn’t loud, but the entire floor went quiet for a beat.

Gemma lifted her head from beside my old desk and smiled.

“Jordan, this is a sensitive matter. Don’t ask around.”

She sounded as if she were protecting my privacy, but the word sensitive alone was enough to make everyone’s imagination run wild.

On the third day, I returned to the company.

Being suspended didn’t mean I was exempt from handing things over.

The director sent me an email telling me to prepare a full handoff checklist for all the project documents I was currently handling.

In the elevator, I ran into Evan from Marketing. He glanced at me, then shifted half a step toward the corner.

“Morning.”

He gave a quiet hum and stared at the floor display, not saying another word.

When the elevator reached the eighth floor and the doors opened, there were already people in the workstation area at the end of the hall.

Gemma was sitting at her own desk, but there was now an extra external monitor in front of her.

It was mine.

My thirty-two-inch professional color-calibrated monitor was one of only two the company had issued. One went to the design director, and one went to me.

The reason was simple. The final visual review on core projects required precise color accuracy.

Now it was on Gemma’s desk.

I stood at the entrance to the workstation aisle and looked at it for three seconds.

Mia lowered her head and pretended to read a file.

Jordan picked up a cup and walked toward the break room.

“Linnie, you’re here?”

Gemma stood up, hurried over, and grabbed my wrist.

“The director said you should go to the small conference room for the handoff. I already organized all the materials for you, so you won’t have to dig through them one by one.”

She had organized my materials for me.

That meant she had already gone through every project file I had.

“Where’s my computer?”

“IT took it. They said it was part of the investigation.”

“Who approved that?”

“The director.”

I went to the small conference room.

Six folders were stacked on the table, each with a label on the cover. The handwriting was Gemma’s.

She had always been meticulous.

She had spent three months checking my academic record, lined up every label neatly, and written the complaint letter with perfect structure.

Inside the folders were all the projects I had handled over the past three years: iteration plans for the visual integration system, client communication records, and technical authorization documents.

But the bottom layer was missing.

All the underlying technical architecture files requiring Level Four clearance or higher were missing.

I closed the folder.

Gemma knocked and came in.

“Linnie, just tell me if anything is missing. I’ll have Mia get it for you.”

“Where are the underlying architecture files?”

“What underlying architecture files?”

“The section I archived separately when each project was initiated. The encrypted directory that only my account can open.”

She tilted her head.

“I’m not really sure what you mean. I didn’t see any encrypted directory when I organized the files. Maybe IT took it along with the computer?”

She didn’t know.

Or rather, she knew that directory existed, but since she couldn’t open it, she decided to pretend it didn’t exist.

That was fine. She would never be able to open it anyway.

At noon, in the company cafeteria, I carried my tray to a seat by the window.

The large table was full today.

Gemma sat in the middle, Mia sat to her left, and Evan sat across from her.

Donna walked past me with her tray and paused.

“Lynn, you…”

Before she could finish, Gemma’s voice drifted over from the large table. “Donna, we saved you a seat. Come on.”

Donna looked at me. Her lips moved, but in the end, she walked away.

I finished lunch alone.

At two in the afternoon, four WhatsApp messages came in back-to-back.

They were all from clients.

Mr. Parker: [Ms. Hart, Gemma sent me the new proposal. It’s pretty different from the one you made before. Have you reviewed it?]

Mr. Reynolds: [Lynn, I heard there have been some changes on your end. Gemma said she’ll be the point person moving forward. Can you confirm?]

Mr. Lewis: [Lynn, are you still on this project? Gemma asked me to send the materials directly to her.]

Mr. Morgan: [What’s going on? Your coworker called and said you were suspected of falsifying your academic credentials, and told us to prepare for a change in point of contact.]

Gemma had already made sure my clients heard the words falsifying your academic credentials.

When I put down my phone, I saw a printed notice taped to the glass partition in the workstation area.

In bold black letters, it read: Integrity is the lifeblood of a company and the bottom line of every employee.

It bore the name Administrative Operations at the bottom, but there was no official authorization mark from the department.

She hadn’t even bothered to get it properly approved.

She had simply taped it there.

No one took it down.

When it was time to leave work, Gemma was waiting for me by the elevator.

“Linnie, you worked hard today. Don’t worry about the clients. I’ll take good care of them.”

Her eyes were slightly red, as if she had just cried.

“I made a new version of the Phase Three proposal for Mr. Parker’s project. Could you take a look when you have time? You know it better than I do.”

She had taken my proposal, turned it into her version, and now wanted me to review it for her.

“I don’t have time.”

“All right.” She sighed. “Then go home and get some rest.”

The moment the elevator doors closed, her reflection appeared on the glass surface.

She was smiling.