Story code: ST-001276
Part 2: The Audit
Two mornings later, the director of financial aid, Mr. Vance, walked into Suite 104 holding a printed system audit report. He didn’t stop at the intake desk; he went straight to Sarah’s office, his expression flat. Through the glass partition, I watched him lay the pages on her desk. Chelsea stopped typing, her head tilting slightly to listen.
“Sarah, we have a major compliance issue,” Mr. Vance’s voice carried clearly over the low hum of the office. “The system audit from the past week shows twelve critical recommendation packets with broken database links. Because the links were corrupted, those students were bypassed for aid.”
Sarah frowned, looking at the report. “That’s impossible. I personally verified those files.”
“Every single one of these transactions was completed under your user ID,” Mr. Vance said, pointing to the columns on the paper. “But the digital timestamps match the times you were logged into Chelsea’s terminal.”
Sarah’s hand went to her collar. “Chelsea was struggling with the legacy intake system. She asked me to override the errors. I was only trying to keep the queue moving.”
Chelsea stood up from her desk, her hands clasped in front of her. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Vance. I told Sarah I couldn’t get the database to work. She told me to step aside and let her handle it. I thought she was processing them correctly.”
Sarah turned to look at Chelsea, her eyes wide. “Chelsea, you told me the system was freezing. You asked me to log in.”
“I did say I was confused,” Chelsea said, her voice small and trembling. “But I didn’t know you were bypassing the validation steps. I’m just the helper. I don’t have the security clearance to know how to override those links.”
Mr. Vance sighed, rubbing his temples. “Sarah, policy is clear. You logged into another user’s terminal and completed high-stakes entries that resulted in data loss. Until we can run a full database diagnostic, your senior verification privileges are suspended. You are on administrative review.”
Sarah sat back, her face pale. She didn’t say a word, her lips pressed into a thin line.
I looked over at Chelsea. She was looking down at her desk, but her fingers were tapping a quiet, rhythmic pattern against her thigh-the exact cadence of the keyboard shortcuts she had executed when Sarah was out of the room. There was no trace of panic in her posture.
“We have one more high-stakes packet arriving this afternoon,” Mr. Vance said, turning back to Chelsea. “The Dean’s list scholar recommendation packet. Since Sarah cannot access the system, Chelsea, you will have to process it yourself. I will sit right here and watch the terminal to see if the legacy database is indeed corrupting the links, or if this is a training issue.”
Chelsea’s tapping finger froze. She looked up at Mr. Vance, her eyes wide, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Me? But Mr. Vance, I don’t know how to navigate the override screens. I’ll just break it again.”
“You’ll do it under direct observation,” Mr. Vance replied. “If the system fails, we’ll know it’s a technical bug. If it doesn’t, we’ll have our answer.”