For two days straight, Amelia hadn’t set foot outside the research center. She’d buried herself in the mountain of data analysis Baron had assigned her, barely sparing a thought for anything else.
Late that afternoon, Emily stormed in from the hallway, cheeks puffed and red, looking every bit like an angry little pufferfish.
“What happened?” Amelia asked, setting aside her laptop.
Emily was usually cheerful and quick to laugh—trivial things rarely got under her skin.
“This is outrageous! So what if you have money? Doesn’t give you the right to steal someone else’s work! If you’re so brilliant, why not write your own damn paper instead of snatching someone else’s?”
Amelia put the pieces together. “Is it your sister’s paper?”
“Yes!” Emily’s voice trembled with fury. “When she submitted it, she was listed as the first author. But when it was published, her name was pushed to second!”
Anyone in academia knew that first authorship was everything—your contribution, your reputation, your future prospects. Second author? People barely remembered the name.
Cases of authorship being changed weren’t common, but everyone had heard stories. Sometimes a senior professor or someone with connections would claim the best student work to pad their own résumé. Usually, there’d be a ‘heads-up’ to smooth things over. But to just take the spot without warning? That was pure bullying—the kind reserved for those without power or protection.
“Do you know who the new first author is?” Amelia asked.
Emily’s eyes shone with angry tears. Her little sister was slogging through grad school applications, banking on this paper to help her stand out. She’d poured her heart and soul into it—late nights at the library, early mornings, losing nearly twenty pounds from the stress. And now, some rich kid had just taken it all away. People like them had no way to fight back.
“Remember that big shot the dean had you show around last time? It’s his girlfriend’s name on the paper now. Violet, I think.”
Amelia closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a wave of disappointment—though honestly, none of this surprised her.
“Is the sun rising in the west today?” Daniel’s tone was a mix of surprise and delight. He’d been texting and calling Amelia for days without a single reply; he never expected her to call him first.
“Where are you?” Amelia asked, voice clipped.
“You want to see me?”
“Where. Are. You?”
Daniel glanced around the private dining room. Tonight was one of Mogan’s gatherings, and he knew Violet would probably show up soon.
“Midnight Delight Café. Call me when you get here—I’ll come down.” He definitely didn’t want Amelia crossing paths with Violet.
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