A flicker of annoyance crossed Clara's eyes.
"God, you're so high-maintenance. Clem handed you everything—the inspiration, the material—and you're *still* trying to slack off!"
Clementine quickly signed to smooth things over.
"There's still a week before the contest. Don't rush him. There's plenty of time."
"As long as he follows my plan, he's taking first. Guaranteed."
But time to find the truth was running out.
I locked the bathroom door behind me and pulled up Geoffrey's social media account.
Just as I expected, he'd posted something new.
He said he wanted to share his inspiration and novel outline with everyone.
One look, and I went rigid.
This was Clementine's material. The exact same material she'd given me.
And his outline—it was identical to the one I'd just dashed off minutes ago. Word for word.
Maybe the inspiration and source material overlapping was coincidence. Fine.
But Geoffrey's outline matching something I'd only just written? How?
A chill crawled up my spine.
I walked out of the bathroom. Clementine and Clara were still in the room, waiting—and the second she saw me, Clara was already pushing me back toward the desk to write.