---- Chapter 4 The panic was a physical assault, a cold fist clenching in Aracely' s chest, stealing her breath. She clicked furiously, her hands shaking so badly she could barely control the mouse. She ran recovery software. She checked the version history. Nothing. It was all gone, replaced by a void. The emptiness on the screen was a perfect reflection of the hollowed-out feeling inside her. But the panic soon gave way to something else. A rage so pure and cold it sharpened her thoughts into a single, piercing point. This wasn't a random glitch. This was an attack. She had always been cautious, paranoid even. A few months ago, after noticing her laptop battery draining faster than usual, she had installed discreet monitoring software. She had almost forgotten about it. Now, she pulled up the logs, her heart hammering against her ribs. There it was. A login entry, time-stamped just seven minutes ago. The user had accessed her thesis document, initiated a multi-pass deletion protocol designed to make data unrecoverable, and then corrupted the backup files. The IP address was the university's library Wi-Fi, but the user ID was unmistakable: C.Padilla. Aracely didn't run. She walked out of the library with a ---- terrifying calm and headed straight for their dorm room She pushed the door open without knocking. The scene inside was sickeningly familiar. Gage was lounging on Cayden's bed, scrolling through his phone. Cayden was at her desk, humming to herself as she applied a fresh coat of nail polish They both looked up, startled by her abrupt entrance. "God, Ara, you scared me," Cayden said, waving her wet nails in the air. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Aracely ignored her. Her eyes were locked on Gage. "Did you know?" she asked, her voice flat. Gage looked up from his phone, annoyed. "Know what? Don't be so dramatic." "My thesis. It's gone. Deleted." Cayden gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a perfect pantomime of shock. "Oh my god, Aracely, no! All your work! How did that happen?" Aracely finally turned her gaze to her roommate. "You tell me." Cayden' s eyes widened, filling with practiced tears. "What are you implying? That | had something to do with it? How could you even think that?" "Because | have the logs, Cayden. Your user ID, logged into my laptop, deleting my work, seven minutes ago." The color drained from Cayden's face. Gage sat up, his ---- expression shifting from boredom to anger. He got off the bed and stood in front of Cayden, shielding her. "That's a crazy accusation. You probably deleted it yourself and forgot, you've been so stressed out lately." "Don't insult my intelligence, Gage," Aracely said, her voice dangerously low. "It's just a stupid paper!" he exploded, his voice echoing in the small room. "My dad could make one phone call and get you into any grad school you want. You don't need some dumb thesis to prove you're smart. This is what you do, you make everything a huge drama!" The cruelty of his words hit her harder than a physical blow. He didn't just not care; he actively despised her ambition. It was a threat to his control over her. "Maybe you're just not as brilliant as you think you are," he added with a sneer. "Maybe you couldn't finish it, so you're blaming Cayden to save face." That was it. The last thread of her affection for him snapped. Aracely' s gaze drifted to Cayden's desk. Her laptop was open, displaying Cayden' s final project for her art history class-a meticulously curated digital portfolio. Beside it sat a large, full glass of water. With a movement so swift and deliberate it seemed to happen in slow motion, Aracely picked up the glass. ---- "No, wait-" Cayden shrieked. Aracely upended the glass, and a cascade of cold water washed over the keyboard. The screen flickered, sparked, and went black. A wisp of acrid smoke curled into the air. Cayden stared in horror, her mouth hanging open. "My project! It's all on there! It's due tomorrow!" Aracely looked from the dead laptop to Cayden's devastated face, then to Gage's stunned expression. She felt nothing but a cold, satisfying calm. She repeated Gage's words back to them, her voice devoid of emotion. "It's just a stupid project. Why are you making such a big drama out of it?" She turned and walked to her side of the room, pulled a duffel bag from her closet, and began stuffing clothes into it. "What are you doing?" Gage demanded. "I'm done," Aracely said, not looking at him. "We're done." She zipped the bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked to the door. She didn't look back. She didn't need to. She could feel their hate-filled stares on her back, and it felt like freedom. 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