The One Who Steals My Degree

The One Who Steals My Degree

Pushing open the door, I noticed two leaves of the philodendron at the reception desk had wilted.
I put down the canvas tote bag I had been carrying during fieldwork; my shoulders still ached.
After three consecutive days of community recruitment, the soles of my shoes had worn thin.
Ms. Sosa, you're finally back! Amelie peeked out from her workstation, eyes a little anxious.
I rubbed my temples and headed to the office. "What's wrong? Is there any problem with the recruitment data?"
She hurried to catch up, lowering her voice even more. "A new teacher has arrived, advising students' graduation thesis."
I stopped in my tracks, the water cup in my hand wobbling slightly. "No one mentioned we were hiring a new teacher."
Amelie pointed toward the conference room. "Ms. Marsh brought her in. She said the new teacher was experienced. Today is her first day on the job."
Emma Marsh is a longtime employee at the institution, responsible for administration. She rarely speaks, yet her work is always somewhat ambiguous.
I pushed open the conference room door; inside sat a woman wearing a white dress.
She looked up at me, her long eyelashes framing a faint, indifferent smile at the corner of her mouth.
"Hello, I'm Miley Shah, the new thesis advisor." She extended her hand, her nails painted a bright red.
I shook her hand, feeling a slight chill at my fingertips. "Lilian Sosa, head of the institution."
Her eyes swept over the badge on my chest, then she suddenly raised an eyebrow: "Oh? Ms. Sosa, are you also a master's graduate from the Literature Department of A University?"
I was momentarily stunned: "You too?"
She took a copy of the academic qualification certificate from her bag and pushed it in front of me. "What a coincidence—not only the same school and major, but also the same graduation year."
I picked up the copy; the information on it was almost identical to mine.
The name field read "Miley Shah," but the photo looked somewhat familiar, as if I had seen it somewhere before.
"That's a bit strange," I said, looking up at her. "There aren't many graduates from A University's Literature Department master's program this year. How come I don't recall a classmate like you?"
Her smile faded slightly as she withdrew her hand. "Does Ms. Sosa think there's an issue with my academic qualification?"
"I'm not daring, just curious." I pushed the photocopy back. "After all, we graduated from the same school and major; it's a shame we never met."
She sneered, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe I'm more low-key, unlike Ms. Sosa, who runs around recruiting students everywhere and gaining fame."
The sarcasm in her tone was obvious, and I frowned.
At that moment, Emma Marsh walked in carrying two cups of water.
Seeing the photocopy in my hand, her hand suddenly trembled, spilling water onto the desk.
"Oh no, sorry!" She hastily grabbed some paper to wipe it up, avoiding my gaze.
I fixed my gaze on her hands, the ones that usually handled documents steadily but today couldn't even hold a cup.
"Ms. Marsh, do you know Ms. Shah?" I asked.
She hesitated, her voice slightly stammering: "Yes...I know her. Introduced through a friend before."
Miley Shah glanced at Emma Marsh and added, "Ms. Marsh and I are relatives; she knew I was looking for a job and recommended me here."
Relatives?
My suspicions grew stronger.
Emma Marsh had never mentioned any relatives involved in thesis advising, and Miley Shah's academic qualifications seemed suspiciously coincidental.
I picked up the canvas tote bag and said, "Ms. Shah, please get familiar with the environment first; we'll discuss the teaching plan later."
As I walked out of the conference room, I glanced back.
Emma was speaking to Miley with her head down; Miley's expression was slightly impatient, and she gently pushed her.
This scene didn't look like relatives but rather like they were hiding some secret from me.

In the afternoon, I called Miley Shah into my office.
"Ms. Shah, please provide a detailed personal file, including your teaching experience and thesis achievements." I submitted a form.
She sat opposite me, tapping her fingers on the desk: "Does Ms. Sosa still doubt my academic qualification?"
"It's not doubt, it's procedure." I took out the files of other teachers. "All new teachers must submit these to facilitate subsequent courses arrangements."
She sneered, pulled a file folder from her bag: "I prepared this long ago, so you wouldn't have to bother."
I opened the folder; the materials inside were quite complete.
A photocopy of her ID card, the original academic certificate, teaching experience certificate, and even university awards.
When I turned to the awards page, I suddenly froze.
That "University-Level Outstanding Graduation Thesis" certificate—although the name was changed to"Miley Shah", I remember the certificate number very clearly—it was my number from back then.
There was also a teaching experience certificate stating, "In 2023, served as a thesis advisor at Institution B." But Institution B is where I worked part-time that year, and the person in charge is my university classmate.
I picked up the certificate, my fingertips trembling slightly: "Ms. Shah, where did you get this certificate?"
Her eyes flickered briefly: "From the school, where else would it be from?"
"Is that so?" I opened my computer and pulled up my award records. "Here is the public announcement list for the Outstanding Graduation Thesis of the Class of 2022 at University A, and your name is not on it."
Her expression changed; she stood up and tried to snatch the certificate. "Don't talk nonsense! You must have checked it wrong!"
I held the certificate up high, just as Emma Marsh passed by the door.
"Ms. Marsh, please come in for a moment." I called to her.
Emma reluctantly walked in, and when she saw the certificate on the desk, her face instantly turned pale.
"Ms. Marsh, have you ever seen this certificate belonging to Ms. Shah?" I asked.
Her lips moved, but she said nothing and suddenly lunged forward to snatch the file bag: "Stop investigating! It's just a certificate—what's there to look into?"
She was panicked, and the contents of the file bag scattered all over the floor.
A photograph slipped out and landed at my feet.
The photo showed two young girls standing before the main gate of University A. One was Miley, and the other...was me.
This photo was taken with my dorm roommate when I graduated. I had lost it, so how could it be in Miley's file?
"Why do you have this photo?" I picked up the photo, my voice turning cold.
Miley's face flushed crimson; she wanted to speak but was stopped by Emma.
"Lilian Sosa, don't ask any more. I'll tell the truth." Emma squatted on the floor, clutching her hair with both hands. "Miley is my cousin. Her academic qualification is fake, and all these files...they belong to you."
My mind buzzed loudly, as if struck by a heavy hammer.
"My files?" I looked at the files on the floor. "How did you get my files?"
"Last year, you asked me to help organize your files, saying it was for archiving. So I...I made a copy and gave it to Miley." Her voice trembled with tears, "She hasn't been able to find a job, so I thought, since your academic qualification is impressive, I'd let her use it temporarily, and she could switch back once she's settled..."
Miley stood nearby, her expression sour: "It's you asked me to use it! Now that there's trouble, you're just shifting all the blame onto me!"
"I'm not shifting the blame! You insisted on coming to this institution yourself, and you even tried to take Lilian Sosa's position!" Emma's voice rose with anxiety.
I watched them exchanging accusations, feeling as if an ice pick were stabbing into my heart.
Emma had been with the institution for three years, and I had always trusted her completely, entrusting everything to her.
I never expected that, behind my back, she would steal my information to help her cousin falsify her academic qualifications.
"Both of you, come with me to the conference room." I picked up the documents from the floor, my voice unnervingly calm, "This matter must be addressed."

The atmosphere in the conference room was very tense.
Miley sat in the chair, arms crossed. "So what if I used your documents?"
"Emma is now the head of this institution, and you're just an employee with no authority over me."
I was momentarily stunned and looked at Emma. "Is what she says true?"
Emma lowered her head even further, remaining silent.
Miley smiled proudly, "Of course it's true! Emma transferred the institution under her name a long time ago. Do you really think you're still the boss?"
I took out my cell phone and opened the photo of the institution's business license. "Last year, I did consider letting Emma buy shares, but the transfer process was never completed. The legal representative on the business license is still me."
"You say Emma Marsh is the boss? Let her show the operation license."
Miley Shah's smile froze as she looked at Emma Marsh. "Where is the operation license? Didn't you say the transfer was completed?"
Emma Marsh's face flushed red, then turned pale. "I...I haven't had time to handle it yet; I just said it casually to Miley."
"What?" I looked at Emma Marsh. "You can't even complete a basic teaching plan, and you don't understand the basic procedure for plagiarism checking. How can you be the boss?"
"When I asked you to organize the students' thesis progress report earlier, you got the names of three students wrong and miscalculated the plagiarism rate. With that skill level, how can you manage an institution?"
Emma's shoulders slumped, and she was left speechless.
Miley's expression was very unpleasant, but she still argued, "Even if Ms. Marsh hasn't completed the transfer, she was the one who recruited me. You have no authority to fire me!"
Just then, Amelie at the reception desk knocked and came in, her face flustered: "Ms. Sosa, many parents have gathered downstairs, saying they want to see Ms. Shah."
Miley's eyes lit up, and she immediately stood to straighten her clothes: "They must be parents of students I've tutored before, here to thank me!"
She walked to the mirror, adjusted her hair, a smug smile curling at the corner of her mouth: "See, I really am capable; the parents all recognize my value."
I looked at her like that, feeling strange.
Those parents were still asking about thesis advising in the Twitter yesterday, their tone urgent—not like they were here to express thanks.
"Ms. Shah, don't be so quick to celebrate." I picked up my cell phone and opened the Twitter. "See what the messages say first."
Miley leaned in to look, and the smile on her face slowly disappeared.
The latest message in the group was from a parent: "Is Ms. Shah really capable? My child's thesis plagiarism rate is 90%, and the school said graduation will be delayed!"
A series of agreeing comments followed:
"Mine's the same! Plagiarism rate 85%, all copied!"
"Ms. Shah says she's a Master's graduate from University A, yet she can't even do basic thesis rewriting?"
"We demand to see Ms. Shah and get an explanation!"
Miley's hand began to tremble as the cell phone slipped from her grasp onto the desk. "Impossible...I clearly made the revisions..."
Emma leaned in to look at the phone, her face going pale instantly. "How could this happen? Didn't you say everything was fixed?"
"I...I actually revised it based on Lilian Sosa's graduation thesis. How could the plagiarism rate be so high?" Miley's voice wavered with tears.
My heart sank sharply.
She actually used my graduation thesis to revise a student's work?
That was the thesis I spent half a year writing, already uploaded to the official thesis database—easy to verify with a single check.
"Ms. Shah, you'd better come with me and explain this to the parents." I picked up my coat. "Otherwise, things will only get worse."
Miley stood rooted to the spot, her legs like lead; no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move.
Emma grabbed her arm. "Let's go! Don't just stand there!"
They followed behind me like two children caught in the act.
At the stairwell, I heard Miley whisper to Emma, "What should we do? Will we go to jail?"
Emma said nothing; her face only grew paler.
I sighed inwardly.
This situation could no longer be resolved with a simple apology.

More and more parents gathered downstairs, about twenty in total.
Some held photocopies of their children's theses, while others whispered quietly; the atmosphere was tense.
The moment we appeared, all eyes turned towards us.
"Ms. Shah! You finally came out!" A mother wearing a red jacket hurried over, clutching a crumpled photocopy of a thesis.
"How exactly did you revise my child's thesis? The plagiarism rate is 90%! The school said it will be recorded as a serious offense!"
Miley took a step back and hid behind Emma. "I...I followed the usual revision procedures. Maybe your child copied from others again..."
"You're talking nonsense!" Another father said angrily, his face flushed and neck reddened, "My child said you told him to use the template you provided directly, without even changing the data!"
"Exactly! My child's thesis even has your initials!" A grandmother said, holding up a magnifying glass and pointing at the thesis header, "Here, 'MS'—isn't that Miley Shah?"
Miley's face turned purple with anger; she wanted to defend herself, but no words came out.
Suddenly, someone pulled a plastic bag filled with rotten vegetable leaves from their bag and threw it at Miley.
"Fraud! Taking our money and ruining our children's futures!"
Immediately, eggs and balls of tissue paper were thrown one after another.
Miley screamed and hid behind the desk, while Emma, frightened, took cover beside me.
I quickly stepped in front of them and shouted at the parents, "Everyone, please stay calm! Let's talk this through!"
"Calm down?" The mother in the red jacket cried, "My child stayed up for three nights because of this thesis. Now the plagiarism rate is so high, they can't graduate. How are we supposed to stay calm?"
"Exactly! We paid eight thousand dollars in guidance fees, and this is what we get?"
Watching the parents' emotional reactions, I felt a deep sense of unease.
"Dear parents, I apologize." I bowed deeply. "This is the fault of our institution, and I sincerely apologize to all of you."
"We will handle Ms. Shah's issues with the utmost seriousness."
"For all students whose theses were supervised by Ms. Shah, I will personally oversee their revisions until the plagiarism rate meets the required standard."
"Additionally, all guidance fees will be fully refunded, along with an extra semester of free counseling sessions."
As soon as I finished speaking, the room fell silent for a few moments.
The mother in the red jacket wiped away her tears. "Ms. Sosa, we trust you. You were the one who tutored my child in Literature before, and their progress has been remarkable."
"Yes, Ms. Sosa is reliable; we trust you!" The other parents echoed in agreement.
I sighed with relief and turned to Miley. "Bring me all the students' theses."
She nervously took out a stack of theses from her bag and handed them to me.
I casually opened one, and as I read the content, my heart suddenly sank.
The structure, arguments, and even the case analysis in this thesis were exactly the same as those in my graduation thesis.
The header "LS" was actually the abbreviation of my name, "Lilian Sosa," which she had altered to represent "Miley Shah."
Some paragraphs didn't even change the punctuation; they were copied and pasted directly.
No wonder the plagiarism rate was so high.
Holding the thesis, I told the parents, "Rest assured, I will revise these theses and ensure every student's thesis is original so that they graduate smoothly."
Only then did the parents slowly disperse, reminding me before leaving, "Ms. Sosa, please take care of this!"
I nodded, watching the parents' backs, feeling a heavy weight in my heart.
Miley and Emma stood beside me, their faces pale.
"Both of you, come back to my office." I held the thesis close to my chest, my voice cold as ice, "This matter is far from over."


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