There was a loud buzzing noise around me. I forced my eyes open, realizing I wasn't dead. I had been reborn. I fumbled for my phone, checking the date. It was August 28th, the day before I was supposed to turn in the most important project of my life. My teammates crowded around me, eyes shining. "Kelsey, you're seriously amazing. No wonder you're a special admit student. You even solved the hardest problems as if they were nothing. Once you wrap up the last bit of code, we can finally submit, right?" My advisor gave my shoulder a firm pat, smiling with pride. "I know how much work you've put into this. Without your core design, we wouldn't even have a shot. With your program, I'm sure we'll take first place. A full-ride scholarship is basically guaranteed for you." Their words made my chest ache. Because in my last life, when I was accused of plagiarism, my teammates and teachers had stood up for me, too. But their voices got drowned out fast. Haters doxxed them online, and they suffered just for defending me. That memory sent a chill through me as I stared at my half-finished code. Suddenly, all the horror came rushing back. If I remembered correctly, in my past life, I had stayed up all night on August 28th, coding like crazy until it was perfect. I handed it in the next day, practically bouncing with excitement, only to get slapped with a forced disqualification. The organizers even posted a public notice, saying that I plagiarized. Overnight, I became the internet's favorite punching bag. [She thought she could cheat her way to a win? Pathetic.] [Yeah, plagiarists like her should just disappear.] [How could she steal someone else's work like that? Makes me sick.] On campus, it was worse. I couldn't walk down the hallway without hearing whispers, sneers, and people throwing insults right in my face. "There she is. The cheater. Arkenville University's biggest disgrace." "Don't think I've seen a more shameless person. If she had any skills, she wouldn't have to plagiarize." "Everyone knows she only wanted that scholarship. Instead, she took the easy way out and cheated." The hate in their eyes made me wish I could vanish on the spot. Shaking off the memory, I grabbed my phone with trembling fingers and pulled up Nicole Hicks's messages. Nicole was the so-called victim of my plagiarism and my boyfriend, Mark Atkinson's, childhood friend. She was all soft features and doe-eyed, the kind of girl every STEM guy drooled over. Her parents were both professors, and her sweet, innocent vibe made her even more lovable. Her name was always popping up on the school's anonymous confessions page, with guys begging her for dates. Mark seemed to be under her spell, too. He never missed a chance to bring her flowers or little gifts. When I called him out, he brushed it off, saying, "She's like a sister to me. Why are you always so jealous?" But then I found his texts with his roommate. He called me boring and plain, and said Nicole was cuter, more fun, and better in every way. He said being with me made him sick. I tried breaking up, but he always came crawling back, acting as if he couldn't live without me. But now? I saw everything for what it was. I checked out Nicole's Instagram profile. Her latest post was a selfie taken with her male teammates, with a laptop in the background. The caption read, [Pulled an all-nighter with the crew. Fingers crossed we crush this coding competition!] Something made me zoom in on the screen. And my stomach dropped. There it was, my code. It was exactly how I had written it. I even noticed my mistake, a random extra parenthesis I'd accidentally typed. She had copied it word for word. I froze. Was this some kind of twisted coincidence? But she'd posted that picture a full day before I was even supposed to submit mine. Which meant her project was already marked as "original", and mine would look like a copy. But I knew the truth. I had built my code from scratch. I never copied anyone's code. So how did she end up with the exact same thing? My head spun. None of it made sense. Still, quitting the competition wasn't an option. It wasn't just about me anymore. My whole team had poured their hearts into this project. If I backed out, I'd drag them down, too. And I couldn't do that to them. That night, as the sky grew dark, I made my decision. I'd been given a second chance. And this time, I wasn't going to let history repeat itself. I was going to protect the people around me. I was going to fight for myself. I lifted my head, staring at the endless lines of code on my screen. Then I hit delete and closed the laptop.