“The connection is dropping,” Koko said, her fingers flying over the glass. “The venue’s firewalls are blocking the bypass.”

I looked at Julian on the stage, who was pointing directly at me in the crowd.

“I have proof of fraud,” Julian shouted, his voice ringing out. “Proof that this woman contaminated our formula, and that our CEO covered it up!”

The room erupted into gasps.

Every eye in the ballroom turned toward me.

The tablet in Koko’s hand let out a sharp beep as the loading bar hit ninety-nine percent, then froze.

“Come on,” Koko whispered, tapping the corner of the screen.

The red light on the tablet’s bezel blinked, but the loading bar did not move.

Up on the stage, Julian leaned closer to the microphone, his face flushed with triumph.

“Elila Smith is an intern who compromised the integrity of Leprince Corp’s flagship project,” Julian declared, his voice echoing off the high marble walls.

He pointed a finger directly at me, his eyes wide.

“And Andrew Leprince knowingly hid her negligence to protect his own reputation.”

Whispers broke out across the ballroom.