Gemotions

The professor, a man with a perpetually furrowed brow, pointed to a paragraph in the essay. "This section... it's almost word-for-word from another source, Mr. Chen."

Daniel, in response, leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the plastic reverberating in the quiet office. He met the man's gaze without flinching. His jaw tightened. He should feel shame. Guilt. He didn't. He felt… annoyed.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging several strands. He wouldn't justify himself. They could think whatever they wanted. His thoughts were his own.