She had just posted an update from her graduation trip, casually sharing photos of her scenic route. Someone had commented, asking if she wasn’t worried about finishing her thesis.
Her reply struck me like a lightning bolt: “I completed my experiment last night and got the first key data.”
My heart skipped a beat. How could that be? I had just obtained the same data moments ago. Could her abilities truly be that extraordinary? Was she so far ahead of me?
I refreshed her feed, and there it was—she had posted the exact steps of her experiment, and to my horror, they were identical to the steps I had just completed.
Panic surged through me. What went wrong this time? I read through her post again and again, comparing it with my own experiment. There wasn’t a single difference.
Determined to avoid this happening again, I quickly made a decision: I would change the research topic entirely. Surely, this time, our paths wouldn’t overlap.
Without wasting a moment, I got back to work. Using the lab computer, I meticulously outlined a new experiment. I finalized the steps, laying out 11 pages of detailed instructions.
As I stepped out of the lab, the night sky was adorned with stars. It was late—too late—but I had no choice.
Just then, my phone rang. It was Nancy. “Felicity changed her topic,” she said. “You might want to check her Facebook.”
Despite my exhaustion, I hurriedly opened Facebook and saw the familiar page layout. Felicity's mouse cursor hovered over page 11 of her document. She had written, "I felt that the topic I chose this morning wasn't innovative enough. I thought of a new direction while in the car and finalized it just now."
Though I couldn’t see the full details of her post, the number of pages, font size, and even the word count matched my document perfectly. Panic crept over me—how was this happening again?
In my previous life, I had received a message from the editorial department stating that my paper was under investigation for plagiarism. Before I could even explain, the rumors spread like wildfire through the college. Felicity took to the forums, accusing me of stealing her work, and it quickly became the talk of the school.
My instructor had called me into his office, telling me to admit to the plagiarism. He said, “Even if you lose your chance to stay in school, I’ll help you get a counselor position here.”
I refused. I had done nothing wrong.