My Bestie Reported My Fake Degree, But My Real Identity Terrified Her Chapter 08

My Bestie Reported My Fake Degree, But My Real Identity Terrified Her Chapter 08

“Excuse me, which department is Ms. Lynn Hart with?”

The receptionist’s voice came through the internal line and echoed across the entire eighth floor.

At exactly ten o’clock on Wednesday morning, a dark gray government sedan stopped in front of the

company entrance.

It had white U.S. Government plates.

They were not standard civilian plates.

Two people got out, one man and one woman. They wore dark uniforms with no obvious agency markings, but the cut of the fabric and the way they stood were almost identical.

The receptionist tried to stop them. One of them showed credentials, and the receptionist’s face changed at once before she immediately called the internal line.

Gemma was on the phone with Mr. Parker when she heard the news.

She hung up and walked to the front desk, wearing the standard smile of an acting head of Administrative

Operations.

“Hello. May I ask what business you have with Lynn Hart? I’m her…”

“We’re here for Ms. Lynn Hart herself.”

The man’s tone was not harsh, but there was no room for negotiation.

“She is currently suspended. I can-”

“Please notify her to come here in

erson.”

Gemma’s smile stiffened for less than a

econd.

When I walked from the temporary desk to the front desk, everyone on the floor was watching.

It was no longer the judgmental stare from before. This was something new, a gaze mixed with confusion

and curiosity.

The woman spoke first in an even tone. “Ms. Hart, our team asked us to coordinate summit matters with

you. The documents requiring your signature need to be prepared in advance, and the timeline is tight.”

Ms. Hart.

Not Lynn. Not Lynn Hart.

Ms. Hart.

Gemma stood beside us, her fingers unconsciously touching her pearl earring.

“May I ask which agency you’re with?”

The woman glanced at her but did not answer.

The man took out a document envelope and handed it to me. “This is tomorrow’s summit agenda and the signature packet. Please review everything today.”

I took it.

A silver–gray security seal was fixed over the opening of the envelope. On it was a string of numbers and a micro–watermark barely visible to the naked eye.

Gemma’s eyes locked onto that seal.

She had seen a similar seal before. Last year, when I was handling a project handoff, a document sealed the same way had been sitting on my desk. She asked me what it was, and I told her it was routine archiving.

She believed me.

“Lynn, what project is this?”

“A project that has nothing to do with you.”

“What do you mean it has.

s nothing to do wi

me? Every project you handled over the past few months has

been handed over to me. I’m the direct point person now,”

The woman glanced at her, her tone calm. “And you are?”

“Gemma Bennett, Acting Head of Administrative Operations and project liaison.”

“You are not on

s project’s need–to–know list.”

Gemma’s face went pale instantly.

The two of them escorted me downstairs to the car.

Before getting in, I looked back once.

Behind the glass curtain wall on the eighth floor, Gemma stood by the window.

From eight floors away, I couldn’t see her expression, but I could see her posture.

Her hands were clasped together in front of her chest.

She looked as if she were praying.

No one spoke in the car.

The woman handed me another document envelope.

“This contains the process and key instructions for the classified project release at the summit. Your project is fourth on the agenda, with a twenty–minute time slot. After the release, you will need to sign the formal authorization documents confirming ownership of the technical results and the scope of commercial

licensing.”

“What does the commercial licensing scope include?”

“At present, there are seven downstream technical applications under your authorization, involving three partner companies. One of those companies,” she paused, “is the company where you work.”

Of the seven downstream technical applications she mentioned, four were used daily by Gemma.

The project Gemma had worked on for eight months, the core technology she had taken into client negotiations, and the solution architecture she had been so proud of in front of the director were all built on my authorization from the ground up.

She didn’t know.

It was just like how she didn’t know why those code repositories had suddenly become inaccessible.

“Ms. Hart, there’s one more thing.”

The man glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

“We have reached a preliminary conclusion regarding the investigation into your status at that company.

We will issue an official letter to the company. The content is simple: Ms. Lynn Hart’s personnel file is

subject to

Classified management, and any unauthorized investigation into it constitutes a violation.”

“When will the

“Tomorrow morning, before the summit.”