On a snowy night, in complete despair, I plunged into a lake on the verge of freezing over.

But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the week leading up to my college entrance exams.

Staring at my sister, who was meticulously helping me prepare, and my childhood friend, who was eagerly trying to nourish me back to health, I felt a mix of emotions.

“Denny, I made a list of all the possible essay prompts. If you study these, I guarantee you’ll get the perfect score!” Charlize said confidently as she placed a neatly compiled list of topics in front of me.

Next to her, Geena teased me. “You better land that top spot, Denny. I’ve been feeding you hummus all week—don’t embarrass the chickpeas and tahini!”

It was meant to be a joke, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

Charlize was my sister—she’d never stab me in the back.

Geena had grown up with me—she had always been sharp-tongued but fiercely protective.

In fact, once, someone talked shit about me, and she nearly got into a fight over it.

So it couldn’t have been them.

Then where did it all go wrong?

I had been an outstanding student my whole life, consistently ranking first in my grade.

Even after transferring to one of the most competitive schools in Illinois, I never dropped out of the top three.

Mr. Carmichael, my homeroom teacher, even bet I’d land a spot at Harvard.

That’s why, when the so-called academic dishonesty scandal broke, most of my classmates and teachers stood by me.

I had won writing competitions before—I had no reason to cheat and plagiarize.

But then, Clive leaked the security footage from the testing room.

The video showed that he turned in his paper 10 minutes before I did.

And before the test, he had posted his own “essay predictions” on his blog, breaking down the exact topic and themes.

His essay followed the exact structure of his earlier post.

For a while, the netizens' nasty comments almost drowned me.

[It’s caught in 4K! Denzel Witt straight-up stole Clive’s work! The evidence is undeniable, and that cheater still pretends he’s a victim?!]

[I heard that that liar has always aced his class. Guess all his grades before were just stolen work that went unnoticed!]

[Thank god his own sister and best friend didn’t cover for him. Imagine letting the real victim take the fall!]

The scandal blew up so fast that it became trending.

The College Board took this matter seriously and immediately launched an investigation, analyzing the evidence Clive presented.

After verification, the surveillance footage and blog posts were proven authentic, with no signs of tampering.

They concluded that I was indeed a cheater and plagiarist.

I was completely blindsided.

I swear to god that essay was mine! How the hell was I the one who copied?

But I had no proof to defend myself.

And what I couldn’t figure out was—how did Clive’s essay turn out exactly like mine?

Did the essay prompts that Charlize predicted somehow get to him?

Mystery after mystery surrounded me.

But right now, Charlize and Geena weren’t acting suspicious.

If I wanted answers, I needed to start with Clive’s social media.

If I remembered correctly, his essay prediction post should have already been up.

But with Charlize and Geena keeping a close watch on me, I hastily scribbled down a rough outline of an essay to make myself look convincing, then clutched my stomach.

“I… I need to use the bathroom,” I muttered.

Geena shot me an unimpressed look. “Seriously? You still have a lot to study, Denny. Charlize basically handed you the potential topics, and you’re still looking for ways to slack off?”

Charlize quickly waved my friend off. “Hey, there’s still time; give him a break. As long as he follows my advice, he’ll do well.”

But I didn’t have much time to uncover the truth.

Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and pulled up Clive’s blog profile.

It was well-known that his parents were professors at Harvard, and thanks to his looks and connections, he had a decent online following.

I never really had much connection with Clive.

But Charlize was a teaching assistant at Harvard and Stanford, so she had met Clive a few times.

Once, I overheard her telling Geena that Clive was the definition of boyfriend material—unlike me, who was just a bookish nerd.

My sister also said that if Geena were going to date someone, it should be a guy like Clive—wealthy and good-looking.

At the time, I thought Charlize was just joking.

But looking back now, maybe she actually meant it.

Even so, I still couldn’t understand—why would someone like Clive, practically born with a silver spoon, go out of his way to screw me over?

Just then, I saw his latest post on his blog.

He claimed he had predicted the essay topics for the SAT and was sharing it with everyone.

The moment I saw it, I froze.

That was the exact topic Charlize had predicted for me!

On top of that, Clive even posted his own so-called “unique” insights about it.

Word for word, they were identical to the notes I had casually jotted down on my scratch paper.

The comments were full of people hyping him up.

[Damn, not only is he hot, but he’s also insanely smart and generous! He even shares his SAT predictions with everyone! What a true angel!]

[Seriously! If I saw this topic on the test, I would’ve gone completely blank. Good thing I read his analysis in advance!]

Predicting the same topic might just be a coincidence.

But how could his essay outline be exactly the same as mine?

The only people who had been in my study room were Charlize and Geena.

It had to be them!

A chill ran down my spine at that thought.

I couldn’t wrap my head around why they would do this.

Was blood and years of friendship really worth less than knowing Clive for just half a year?

I sat on the toilet for an hour, thinking it over.

Then I made up my mind—I had to take a different approach.

I already knew the essay topic for this year’s SAT.

In my last life, I got accused of plagiarism, but that essay was actually my best work.

It scored high, but not a perfect score.

This time, I was going to write the essay in Old English.

Since Clive’s essay had been an exact copy of mine in my last life, I’d just rewrite the whole damn thing!

No matter the final score, at least I could shake off the plagiarism accusations.

Early the next morning, before Charlize woke up, I snuck out and went to Grandma’s place.

To be honest, I was hesitant.

Writing my SAT essay in Old English was not only ridiculously hard but also a huge gamble.

The moment I arrived, Grandma handed me a bowl of oatmeal.

“My sweet boy, what’s wrong? You look troubled.”

I forced a bitter smile.

“Grandma, if I don’t get into Harvard, are you gonna be disappointed?”

She patted my head, her eyes full of warmth.

“Silly boy, of course not!

“I just want you to be happy, Denny. Even if you don’t get in, you still have me. I’ll take care of you.”

Hearing those words, my resolve hardened.

As I left Grandma’s place, I got a call from Charlize.

“Denny, where the hell did you go? Geena brought you breakfast, but you weren’t there. Now she’s upset!”

I replied flatly, “I went out to buy some study materials. I’ll be back soon.”

I wasn’t planning on telling them about my new essay strategy.

After all, they were the prime suspects in the plagiarism scandal last time.

Instead, I headed to the library to rework my essay plan.

It was also the perfect place to do some research.

After hours of writing, I stretched and leaned back for a quick break.

I was curious—what would happen to Clive this time?

Just as I was lost in thought, Charlize and Geena walked in.

I was a little confused—How did they know I was here?

The next second, Charlize placed a warm lunchbox on my desk.

“Figured you’d be too caught up studying to eat, so I brought you something.”

Meanwhile, Geena handed me a cup.

“Coffee. Your stomach’s weak, so it’s decaf.”

Their sincerity was written all over their faces. They didn’t look like they meant any harm.

Had I been overthinking things?

But if it wasn’t them… then who?

My mind was a mess, but I managed to squeeze out a smile.

“Perfect timing! I was just getting hungry. Let me wash my hands first, then I’ll dig in.”

With that, I grabbed my phone and headed to the restroom.

But instead of going into the men’s room, I stopped by the sinks and opened Clive’s Facebook blog.

Sure enough, he had a new post.

[Guys, you won’t believe it. When I shared my predicted essay topics for the SAT, someone straight-up copied my outline! The predictions might not even be right, but that’s just nasty. Anyways, I’m reworking my entire essay plan.]

Attached was a photo of a guy studying in the library.

Anyone familiar with me could tell—that was my silhouette!

Just who on Earth took that photo?!

In the comments, someone asked what Clive’s new essay plan was.

Clive replied. [I’d write it in Old English this time.]

I froze.

I hadn’t told anyone I was planning to write in Old English!

Even if it was just a coincidence, why would Clive choose a style he wasn’t even good at?

There had to be a spy around me!

Was it Charlize? Was it Geena?

Or… were they both in on it?

But why? What were they after?

Just then, someone patted me on the back.

“Denny, what are you thinking about?”

That scared the hell out of me.

It was Charlize and Geena.

Since I hadn’t returned, they’d come to check on me, worried something was wrong.

Still on edge, I brushed them off.

“Uh, you guys go ahead. I’ll eat in a bit.”

The moment the words left my mouth, Geena immediately snapped, “Denzel, we went out of our way to bring you food, and this is how you act?

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed—you’ve been acting all suspicious around us these past few days! Seriously, it’s like we’re being treated like enemies!”

Charlize quickly stepped in, “Geena just has a sharp tongue but a soft heart—don’t take it personally.

“We know you’re under a lot of pressure. We just wanted to look out for you.”

I quickly replied, “I know you guys mean well. Maybe I should just stay in my dorm for the next few days. Save you the trouble of coming back and forth.”

Geena rolled her eyes.

“Fine, do whatever you want. It’s not like I enjoy babysitting you anyway!”

With that, she dragged Charlize, and they stormed out of the library’s study room.

Finally, I let out a breath of relief.

At 10:30 PM, I returned to the dorm.

The moment I walked in, I heard my roommates talking about Clive.

I went over to take a look.

They were looking at a photo—three hands holding up drinks in a toast.

The caption read: [Love from my sisters!]

I recognized those hands instantly—Charlize’s and Geena’s.

Since when were they this close?

And why didn’t I know about it?

I pulled out my phone to check Clive’s Facebook friends.

But I Charlize’s and Geena’s comments on his new update caught my attention first.

[You will always be my number-one heartthrob!]

[Don’t worry, Clive. We’ll make sure you top the SAT!]