A Call from the Future Begged Me Not to Apply to Harvard Chapter 04

A Call from the Future Begged Me Not to Apply to Harvard Chapter 04

The conference room at the Harborview Hotel was spacious. Five panel members sat behind a long table, their expressions severe.

Three reporters from major news outlets already had their livestream cameras rolling for the public verification session.

Sam and Mark sat in chairs facing them.

Sam’s eyes went red the second she saw me.

“Emily… how could you steal my work?”

“I trusted you…”

The panel gestured for me and Dr. Miller to sit.

“Ms. Moore, did you complete this project independently?”

Sam nodded. “I worked a full year on it.”

“Then how does Ms. Harper have an identical copy?”

That broke the dam.

Tears streamed down Sam’s face. Her voice cracked.

“She’s my best friend. I never kept my guard up around her. She knows all my passwords.”

“She was always at my apartment and used my computer all the time. I never imagined she’d steal my research.”

“Emily, you can take anything you want. But this project is everything I’ve worked for. Please give it back.”

I blinked innocently.

“I didn’t take anything from you, so what exactly am I supposed to give back?”

“I don’t steal. Not things. Not people.”

Mark cut in, his voice harsh.

“Stop playing games, Emily. You think I don’t know what this is? Payback.”

“Emily is my girlfriend. She’s been bitter because Sam and I go to the same school.”

“I never thought she’d stoop this low.”

“I can testify to that. Emily has always cared more about having fun than working. She could never have produced research like this.”

Live comments flooded in.

[Harvard vs. UMich? I’m siding with Harvard.]

[Right? Like a Harvard student would ever need to steal from someone at UMich. What a joke.]

[No way she has that kind of talent. She didn’t even get into Harvard.]

[Even her boyfriend is calling her out. Says everything about her character.]

Dr. Miller shifted anxiously in his seat.

“Emily, stop keeping everyone in suspense and explain.”

One panel member spoke in a flat voice.

“Ms. Harper, you’ve heard Ms. Moore’s accusations. What do you have to say?”

“I do.”

I pointed at the two identical documents on the screen.

Everyone’s eyes followed my finger.

I turned to Sam, one slow word at a time.

“Sam, you claim this is your project.”

“Then tell everyone where the watermark is hidden.”

Sam scanned the screen. Nothing but dense text. No watermark in sight.

She smirked like she had me figured out.

“Emily, stop trying to bluff me. There isn’t any watermark in that document.”

“Stop wasting the panel’s time.”

The panel frowned.

“We examined both files carefully. Neither contains a visible watermark or any other identifying marker.”

I said, “So Sam has no proof that she didn’t steal the project from me either?”

Sam opened her mouth to protest.

“Emily, how dare you turn around and accuse me?”

I cut her off and pulled out a USB drive.

“But I have proof that someone stole my research from my computer.”

A technician connected it to the display.

The moment the image appeared, Mark went white.

It was surveillance footage from my home office.

The camera showed Mark sitting at my computer and working through the files with obvious urgency.

Mark blurted out a denial.

“No, I was just messing around on her computer. I didn’t steal anything…”

He abruptly fell silent.

The panel zoomed in.

His every move was crystal clear.

He opened my D drive, found the research files, gathered them into one folder, and copied everything onto a USB drive.

I looked between them.

“There’s the evidence that my research was stolen.”

“Sam, you said I went to your place and copied your research. Where’s your proof?”

Sam shook her head.

“I… I don’t have any security cameras at home.”

She spun toward the panel.

“I had nothing to do with Mark stealing Emily’s files. I knew nothing about it, absolutely nothing!”

“My project is mine. What Mark did has nothing to do with me!”

Mark snapped out of it and pointed at me.

“Emily, you doctored that video!”

I laughed.

“Mark, think before you speak.”

“A forensic video analysis can determine whether the footage was altered. Do you really want to make that claim?”

Mark closed his mouth, lowered his head, and struggled to think of a response.

Sam shot to her feet, her voice cracking.