Gemotions

Eliza stared at the book, its cover bearing her painting. She was supposed to be anonymous. She hadn’t signed the original piece, and now everyone would know. Her anonymity was her shield, her protection. Now, it was gone. She felt exposed and vulnerable.

Her throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow. Her hands were clammy, her palms slick with sweat. She ran a hand over her face, trying to compose herself. She felt a need to hide, to disappear.

She wanted to call the publisher, demand that they stop. But the words wouldn't come. She just stood there, frozen. The book, in her hands, felt like a burning coal. She clutched it tighter.