“I read this before school.”
Noah stared.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“You emailed me at midnight.”
“I wake at five.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is.”
She almost smiled.
Then became serious.
“This is clearly not the same paper as your three-week-old draft.”
“No.”
“It is substantially more developed.”
“Yes.”
“So I believe you did the work.”
Noah breathed.
Then Mrs. Carter added:
“That does not explain what happened.”
“I know.”
“The cloud document is blank.”
“Yes.”
“Did you delete it?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else have access?”
Noah hesitated.
Natalie.
His stomach tightened.
“I don’t know.”
Mrs. Carter noticed.
“What?”
“My sister has used my laptop.”
“Recently?”
“Tuesday.”
“Does she know your password?”
Noah thought.
His laptop password was the same PIN he had used for years.
Four digits.
Natalie knew it.
Everyone in the family probably did.
“Yes.”
“Did she know about the assignment?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any reason to think she deleted it?”
Noah looked down.
“No.”
Not evidence.
Not yet.
Mrs. Carter nodded.
“Good.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“Do not accuse someone because you are frightened.”
That sounded like something his mother would say.
Mrs. Carter turned toward her computer.
“I contacted district technology support at 6:12 this morning.”
Noah’s eyes widened.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“They told me the revision history is retained on the server even when students cannot immediately access it.”
His heart jumped.
“So my paper is there?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“The document system snapshots changes.”
“They are restoring the file.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Noah exhaled.
Then Mrs. Carter looked at him.
“There is something else.”
His stomach tightened again.
“What?”
“They can also see account activity associated with edits.”
Noah went still.
Mrs. Carter continued.
“I’m telling you now because if someone else accessed your account, this becomes more than an assignment issue.”
Noah stared.
“Someone can see who deleted it?”
“They can see what happened.”
“Not necessarily who was physically sitting at the device.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to wait before escalating?”
Noah thought about Natalie.
Her face.
Her immediate suggestion to submit the old draft.
Her nervousness.
Then he hated himself for suspecting her.
“No.”
he said.
“Check.”
Mrs. Carter nodded.
“Good.”
At lunch, Noah found Natalie sitting with three friends near the windows in the senior cafeteria.
He almost walked toward her.
Then stopped.
Mrs. Carter’s words returned.
Do not accuse someone because you are frightened.
So he left.
Natalie saw him.
Their eyes met.
She looked away first.