Anjali, the quiet one, finally spoke. "While you were taking credit for our work, we were building a system. Google Drive isn't just storage, Ricky. It's insurance against people like you who lose things. Auto-save, version history, shared access—we can see every edit you didn't make."

He stammered, "But… how?"

Neha, listening on speaker, chimed in. "We moved everything to the shared Google Drive folder you never bothered to check. The one we named after your favorite phrase."

It was 9:55 PM on a Sunday. The biggest pitch of the year—code-named "Project Phoenix"—was scheduled for 9:00 AM Monday. Ricky Bahl, the smooth-talking sales director, had promised the CEO a flawless presentation.

"Priya! Emergency! My laptop crashed. I need the Phoenix deck. Email it to me NOW."

Priya pulled back. "No thanks. From now on, the 'ladies' have our own folder. And you have view-only access."

But Ricky had a fatal flaw: he believed his laptop was immortal.

At 10:00 PM, Ricky's laptop made a gurgling sound and died. Blue screen of death. His only copy of his (actually, their) presentation was gone. Panicked, he called Priya.

The Case of the Missing Presentation

"What do you mean?"