Chapter 8
I buried myself in coding until sunset, completely lost in my work, when Miranda came in carrying a plate of succulent chicken pasta, her eyes sparkling with warmth.
“Sweetheart, even the busiest bee needs to eat! I made these special just for you. Try them!”
I closed my laptop, stretching happily. “Thanks, Grandma! I can already taste them in my mouth.”
Ever since I was a kid, I had a deep love for Miranda’s chicken pasta. The spice blend she used was just right, and her secret sauce was simply heavenly. Since starting college, though, I hadn’t had the chance to enjoy them nearly as much as I wished.
Just as I was about to dive into the mouthwatering chicken pasta, Miranda gently swatted my hand away and handed me a napkin.
“Now, now, little troublemaker, wipe your hands before you dig in!”
With a chuckle, I wiped my hands, only to notice my phone lighting up with notifications.
I unlocked it to find the social media status blowing up.
Not long after my call with Marvin, Megan had released her own
1/3
Chapter 8
version of the program, shocking no one; it mirrored my ideas and methods perfectly.
The comments below were overwhelming in their praise.
[Oh my gosh, Megan is incredible! She tackled that tough part with such ease–that’s amazing!]
[It looks like Megan’s team is flying high thanks to her. She’s definitely going to take first place!]
[She’s pretty, hardworking, and humble. Megan is truly a role model for all women!]
As I scrolled through the endless stream of compliments, a cold indifference washed over me.
I couldn’t shake my growing suspicions about Megan.
This didn’t just seem like a coincidence; it was too uncanny. She had an uncanny ability to swipe my ideas just as I began to think them.
It sounded crazy, but the patterns I noticed left no room for doubt.
I didn’t know what tricks she used, but one thing was clear, I was the one being ripped off here.
In this life and the last, all the accolades and glory Megan enjoyed
had come at my expense.
2/3
Chapter 8
Even now, she had achieved everything she ever wanted, but I couldn’t understand why she felt the need to derail me, framing me as a danger to society and ruining my life.
I felt an overwhelming surge of resentment and injustice rising within me; my teeth clenched, nails digging fiercely into my palm.
But in a flash, that anger dissipated.
Despite the clarity I had about what happened in my previous life, I had no concrete evidence to fight back with.
How could I expose Megan for what she was doing?
Just
my
word against hers wouldn’t hold water, and knowing Megan’s tactics, I could easily find myself in the same position as before.
At least there was a silver lining.
I had planted the biggest bug at the end of my program.
Now, it was up to Megan to show if she had the chops to solve it.