My Bestie Reported My Fake Degree, But My Real Identity Terrified Her Chapter 02

My Bestie Reported My Fake Degree, But My Real Identity Terrified Her Chapter 02

After saying that, she turned and walked away, the sound of her heels fading down the hall.

I returned to my desk. My computer had already been locked.

A line of text appeared on the screen: This account has been suspended by the system administrator.

Mia Carter sat across from me. She had been hired in the same cohort as me, and for three years, we had eaten lunch together every day.

When she saw me come back, her gaze lingered on my face for half a second before she looked away.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard as if she were rushing to finish something urgent.

A Outlook window flashed green on her screen, and I recognized the profile picture. It was Gemma Bennett.

My phone buzzed.

My phone buzzed with a message from my client.

Mr. Parker: [Ms. Hart, Gemma said there have been some changes on your end. Should I coordinate directly with her from now on?]

The $1.2 million integration project he was overseeing was based on my proposal, and all thirty-two revision records were on my computer.

All of it was trapped inside the computer they had just locked me out of.

I didn’t reply to Mr. Parker.

At three in the afternoon, Gemma was making coffee in the break room.

Several coworkers stood around her. Their voices were low, but the break room had terrible soundproofing.

“I didn’t want to report her either, but the National Student Clearinghouse really had no record of her. What was I supposed to do, pretend I didn’t know?”

“I spent three whole months checking. I went to Eastbridge twice, and even the state Department of Education said there was never a student by that name.”

“If she’s innocent, why doesn’t she just produce a diploma and end this? Why won’t she show one?”

Someone asked, “Then what was that card she had?”

Gemma’s voice paused for a moment before she laughed.

“Who knows? You can buy anything on Amazon.”

Laughter spilled through the break room’s glass door.

I sat at my desk, facing a black screen.

My phone lit up, went dark, then lit up again.

Another client messaged me, asking if I had quit. He said Gemma had already added him on WhatsApp.

Gemma was efficient.

She had been my best friend for three years, spent three months laying the trap, and completed the entire takeover in three hours.

When it was time to leave work, she came to find me again.

She was holding a latte, which she offered to me.

“Linnie, stay home and get some rest tomorrow. I’ve got things covered at the company.”

I took the coffee.

“Gemma, ever since you lost that promotion last year, you spent three months investigating me before finally making your move. You really know how to wait.”

Her hand froze around the coffee cup.

The smile disappeared from her face.

“Linnie, what are you talking about? What does this have to do with the promotion?”

“Good. Then it has nothing to do with the promotion.”

I watched her walk away, then threw the latte into the trash.

It was just as well. I could use a few days of rest.