Chapter 86

Chapter 86

I finally managed to establish myself in Silverlight City. If I lost my job and got tangled up with that lunatic William again, what was I going to do?

I practically begged, "Mr. Fields, could you give me a few more days? Just three days—no, two days! I'll redo the draft, I promise it won't delay the client."

Alan flatly refused. "I don't have time to waste on you. The client is pressing hard. They need to see the initial draft tomorrow. Figure it out yourself—either submit it tomorrow or face all the consequences. There's no third option."

With that, he turned and headed for the door. He stopped at the doorway, turned back to glare at me, and said, "Don't give me any more nonsense about someone tampering with your work. I'm not interested in useless excuses! If you can't do the job, own up to it. Don't waste my time!"

The office door slammed shut with a bang, and I stood there alone, holding the blank draft.

Outside, my colleagues' stares felt like needles piercing my skin. I could imagine what they were saying about me right now.

I bit my lip, fighting back tears, and hurried out of the office.

Back at my desk, Selina quickly came over and whispered, "Layla, how did it go? Mr. Fields didn't give you too hard a time, did he?"

I shook my head and tossed the blank draft onto the desk, my voice breaking. "He said if I can't submit the draft tomorrow, I'll have to cover all the losses, and I'm fired. But I really did finish it. I don't know who replaced my draft with blank pages."

Selina picked up the draft and flipped through it, looking shocked. "How could this happen? This is too much! It must be someone who's jealous of you!"

I slumped over my desk, my shoulders shaking. "But I have no proof. Mr. Fields doesn't believe me at all. He thinks I'm making excuses."

Selina said anxiously, "So what now? There's no way you can redo it in time. It's just one night—how could you possibly finish a whole set of designs?"

I lifted my head and wiped away my tears, my mind racing with panic and confusion.

One night—forget redesigning everything, even copying my previous draft would be impossible.

But I couldn't give up. If I had to compensate the company for their losses, I'd never recover.

I dried my tears, opened my computer, and said, "I'll try. Even if it's just one night, I have to try. I'll do as much as I can. It's better than just sitting here waiting for the worst."

Selina looked at me with sympathy. "Then I'll stay with you. I'll help you find references and organize materials—anything to save you some time."

I nodded without speaking and buried myself in front of the computer screen.

But my mind was a mess. All my previous design ideas were scrambled. I stared at the blank canvas, unable to draw a single line.

Suddenly, I remembered—worried about computer problems, I had saved a copy of the design draft on a USB drive and backed it up to the cloud.

I quickly grabbed the USB drive and plugged it into my computer, my heart pounding as I prayed the files were still there.

But when I opened the drive, it was empty. The design draft I'd saved was gone.

I hurriedly logged into the cloud and refreshed several times. The cloud folder was also empty—even the backup files had vanished without a trace.

"How can this be?" I muttered to myself, my hands and feet turning cold. The USB drive had been in my bag the whole time, never leaving my side. Only I knew the cloud password. How could everything suddenly be gone?

Did I get so confused from staying up late that I never actually saved anything? Or did someone not only switch my paper draft but also secretly access my USB drive and cloud storage?

The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. I tried to recall the details of when I saved the files.

But I couldn't remember clearly. I only remembered that I definitely saved them and even checked once.

Selina tried to comfort me. "Layla, don't panic. Think carefully—maybe you saved them in a different folder?"

I shook my head and went through every folder on my computer again, even checking the recycle bin. Still nothing.

At that moment, I almost believed I'd hallucinated from sleep deprivation—that those three nights of hard work, those pages filled with sketches, were all just a dream.

I slumped in my chair, completely drained, staring blankly at the computer screen.

Did I really remember wrong? Did I never actually finish the design draft and only thought I had?

"Impossible." I pinched myself hard. The pain was very real.

But why had all the evidence disappeared?

The paper draft had turned blank, the USB and cloud files were gone—as if someone had deliberately erased all my efforts, leaving only the illusion that "I didn't finish the work."

I looked at the blank draft on my desk, then at the empty USB drive, and a deep sense of helplessness washed over me.

I wanted to prove myself, but couldn't find any evidence. I wanted to start over, but I had less than a day left. I wanted justice, but didn't know who to turn to.

My colleagues watched me with schadenfreude, and I could hear their whispered gossip, making me unable to sit still.

I stood up and walked out of the office, down to the street below the company building.

Who would target me like this? Sophia, or a colleague I'd had conflicts with before? They certainly had motive and opportunity to tamper with my USB drive when I wasn't paying attention. But how would they know my cloud password?

I pondered these questions but couldn't find any answers.

I didn't know how long I walked until the streetlights came on and I finally stopped.

I came to Silverlight City to escape the nightmare of Emerald City, to start fresh. But why did troubles keep finding me? I just wanted to work honestly and live a good life. Why was that so hard?

Tomorrow was the deadline. If I couldn't produce the design draft, I would have to cover huge losses and get fired.

Then I would have no job, no savings, and might fall back into my previous predicament.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Matthew's number, my finger hovering over it, hesitating for a long time.

I didn't want to trouble him again or have any more ties to the Browns. But right now, besides him, I really didn't know who else could help.

Just as I was about to press the call button, I suddenly stopped.

No, I couldn't depend on him anymore. I already owed him too much. I couldn't keep living under someone else's protection.

I needed to solve this problem myself. Even if I couldn't, I would accept it—at least I tried.

I put away my phone and turned back toward the company. Even with just one night, I had to give it everything I've got.

Even if I failed in the end, I didn't want to have any regrets.

Back in the office, Selina was still waiting for me, with materials and references she'd organized neatly arranged on my desk.

She said, "Layla, you're back? Don't lose heart. Let's work together—maybe we can get it done."

Looking at Selina's sincere eyes, I nodded and said, "Yeah, let's do this."

I sat back down at my computer and began recalling my previous design concepts.

Although I couldn't remember many details, the general framework was still there.

I picked up a pen and quickly sketched out rough drafts on paper, then refined them bit by bit on the computer.

The only sounds in the office were Selina and me typing on our keyboards.