Becca's composure cracked under Anne's fierce glare. She hadn't expected Anne to suspect her. Panic flared within her, but she refused to show weakness, quickly masking it with outrage.
"What nonsense?" she snapped. "I left before you even finished the report. How could I have deleted the file if I wasn't here?"
"You didn't leave. Don't lie," Anne retaliated vehemently. "I saw you sneaking out of the office just before I left. You stayed hidden in the shadows, waiting. And the moment you found the right opportunity, you slipped back in, went to my desk… and deleted the file."
A muscle in Becca's jaw tensed. She adjusted her round glasses, pushing them higher onto the bridge of her nose, nervous.
Anne didn't miss it. She pressed forward. "You're the only one who knows the password to my laptop," she pointed out coldly. "No one else could have unlocked it but you. Why, Becca? Why did you do that?"
