Gemotions

"Oh, *hell* no," Maya muttered, the words a low growl. Her essay, the one where she’d laid bare her struggle with her father's alcoholism, was now a shining example on the university website. It felt like a punch to the gut. The university, she felt, had exploited her experiences for their own benefit.

She snatched the offending laptop from the coffee table, her fingers clenching into fists. The screen reflected her angry face. A wave of heat washed over her, making her palms sweat. The audacity! She’d written about vulnerability, not for public consumption.

She logged into her student portal, her gaze fixed, cold and sharp. She would not be silenced. There were actions she could take, avenues she could explore. She found the "contact us" form, and began to compose her response.