Reborn Omega; I Refuse To Be Your Substitute

ignored

53

"Sienna," Priyanka said immediately, eyes narrowing. "It's Sienna. Has to be."

"She hasn't touched this project in weeks," Chloe said. "How would she even get access?"

"I don't know, but who else would want to sabotage us this badly?"

"Where is she right now?" Jason looked around the floor. "Has anyone even seen her today?"

As if on cue, the elevator dinged behind us.

Sienna stepped out, looking pale, tired, moving slower than usual, one hand pressed lightly against her side.

Chloe was on her feet before I could stop her, crossing the floor fast.

"Where were you last night?" Chloe demanded, blocking her path.

Sienna blinked, startled. "Excuse me?"

"The presentation file. It's gone. Both copies. Deleted sometime overnight."

"And you're asking me because...?"

"Because you weren't here yesterday, and you conveniently show up right after it disappears."

Sienna's jaw tightened. "I was at the hospital."

"Convenient."

"I have discharge papers if you want to see them." Her voice sharpened, genuine anger bleeding through the exhaustion on her face. "I've been sick for two days, Chloe. What exactly do you think I did, delete files from a hospital bed?"

"You could have—"

"What evidence do you actually have against me?" Sienna cut her off, crossing her arms despite how tired she looked. "Because from where I'm standing, I haven't touched this project in weeks. I have zero access to the shared drives you've all been working on. So unless someone can actually prove something, I'd suggest looking elsewhere before you accuse me in front of the entire floor."

Nobody said anything for a second. She wasn't wrong, technically. She'd been pulled off the account weeks ago, after everything with the earlier sabotage attempt. She shouldn't have had access anymore.

I stood there, mind racing, trying to piece it together. If it wasn't Sienna, someone else had gotten into that system. Someone with active permissions. Someone still on this account, still trusted, still moving freely through files nobody thought to question.

My stomach turned over slowly.

Another mole. Still here. Still working alongside us this entire time.

"Fine," I said quietly, stepping forward. Everyone turned to look at me. "Maybe it wasn't Sienna."

Sienna's eyebrows rose slightly, some of the tension in her shoulders easing.

"But someone did this," I continued. "Someone with access. Someone who knew exactly where both copies were stored."

I looked around slowly at the small group still gathered near the laptop. Priyanka. Chloe. Jason. A junior analyst named Derek who'd joined the project three weeks ago to help with data entry. A couple of others hovering near the edges, listening.

My mind moved fast, piecing together something reckless, something I wasn't even sure would work, but we had less than two hours and no time left to investigate properly.

"Actually," I said, keeping my voice even, casual, "I found a third backup last night. On a personal drive. I didn't mention it because I wasn't sure it was fully updated, but I think it might have the final version."

The room went very quiet.

"Wait, there's a third copy?" Chloe asked, relief flooding her voice immediately. "Where?"

"I saved it to a private folder," I said. "Under 'Meridian Final V3 — Do Not Share.' I was going to double check it this morning before mentioning it, in case it wasn't complete."

I watched carefully as I said it, watched every face in that small circle, waiting.

Derek's eyes flicked toward the laptop for exactly half a second too long.

Small. Barely noticeable. If I hadn't been watching for exactly that kind of reaction, I would have missed it entirely.

"That's great news," Priyanka said, already reaching for the laptop again. "Where's the folder? I'll pull it up."

"It doesn't exist," I said quietly.

The room stilled.

"What?" Chloe frowned. "You just said—"

"I made it up." I kept my eyes on Derek now, steady, watching him go very still. "There is no third backup. I said it to see who reacted."

Nobody moved.

"Derek," I said, quiet and even. "Why did you look at the laptop just now?"

His face went white. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do, actually." I stepped closer, my heart pounding but my voice staying level. "Everyone else in this circle reacted with relief. You reacted with panic. For half a second, but I saw it."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"No," I agreed. "But it's enough for me to ask IT to check exactly which login accessed those folders last night. And I have a feeling it wasn't going to be Sienna's."

Derek's jaw worked silently for a second, eyes darting toward the exit, toward Mr. Shawn, toward anyone who might rescue him from this conversation.

Nobody did.

"I didn't delete anything," he said finally, voice cracking slightly.

"Then you won't mind IT checking your login history."

"I only moved them," he said quickly, too quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "I didn't delete them, I swear, I just moved them to a different drive. Someone paid me to—" He stopped himself, realizing what he'd already admitted.

"Someone paid you," I repeated slowly.

His face had gone completely pale now, the kind of pale that came right before someone realized they'd just destroyed their entire career in one sentence.

"Who?" Mr. Shawn's voice cut through, sharp and furious, stepping forward from where he'd been standing frozen near the back. "Who paid you, Derek?"

Derek's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"I don't know his name," he finally said, voice barely above a whisper. "He just said he worked for a rival company. He offered me money to slow down the presentation. I didn't think it would actually—"

"Where are the files?" I cut in, my voice sharper than I meant it to be, adrenaline and fury and something close to relief all crashing together at once. "Right now, Derek. Where did you move them?"

He swallowed hard, hand shaking slightly as he reached for his own laptop.

"External drive," he said quietly. "I still have it. I was going to give it back after the presentation, I swear, I never meant for it to actually cost you the meeting—"

"Get it," Mr. Shawn said, voice like ice. "Now."

Derek scrambled toward his desk, and the rest of us stood there in stunned silence, the tension in the room shifting from panic into something sharper, angrier, more focused.

We had less than two hours.

And somewhere out there, someone had paid a junior analyst enough money to risk sabotaging the biggest presentation of the year, which meant whoever Daniel warned me about last night wasn't finished yet.

Not even close.