#Chapter 47: Tea Room Deals

Emily I caught the error by instinct. Something about the formatting in the final report struck me as off. I’d stayed late to double-check the quarterly summaries ahead of next week’s Pack Council meeting. And there it was: my name on a report I hadn’t touched. At first, I thought maybe someone had reused one of my old templates. Carla was always insisting she “helped organize things behind the scenes,” even though I hadn’t asked. But this wasn’t a template issue. The report looked like it came from me. My style. My formatting. Even my digital signature. But when I opened the source log, the time stamp once again told the truth. It had been uploaded three hours ago. At a time when I was physically out of the office. There was no possible way I was logged into an on-site account. Someone had forged it. I flagged it, rewrote the sections Carla had altered, and submitted the correct version directly to Logan’s chief liaison with a note about internal inconsistencies. I didn’