Gemotions

He hadn't eaten all day. Ben sat hunched over his laptop, his shoulders tight. The article was still on the screen, a monument to the shattered image he held of Elias Thorne. Everything was there, the evidence clear. He felt the bile rise in his throat.

He had believed in Thorne’s genius, his ability to weave magic with words. Now, the man was exposed as a thief, a fraud. Ben felt like he was falling. He felt the air leaving his lungs.

Ben took a deep, shaky breath, fighting for control. He shut his laptop. The click was loud. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clenched into fists, staring blankly ahead. He slowly raised one hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if trying to keep his head from exploding.