Gemotions

The courtroom was vast, imposing. The biography sat on the table in front of her, a silent accusation. Emily felt her stomach churn. The lies, the half-truths, the omissions—they were a constant, corrosive presence. She hated the author, the publisher, the very idea of this book.

She stood, her voice steady but laced with steel. She walked to the window, her back to the gallery. She looked out at the city, a place she was used to being in control of. But now, she was at the mercy of this book.