Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, unread. She could practically feel the cold prickle of the notification buzzing in her pocket. It was from the literary agent, the one who’d helped her get her own debut novel published. She’d always admired Jasper Thorne, the author whose work had inspired her. Now, she just wanted to crumple the screen.

She finally opened the email. The agent had included a link to an article, one that painstakingly detailed the similarities between Thorne's latest bestseller and Eleanor’s previously published short story. A wave of nausea rolled over her. She knew, even before clicking the link. She just knew.

Later, she’d find herself staring at the framed first edition of Thorne's signed book on her shelf. She picked it up, her fingers tracing the author’s bold signature. It felt like holding a snake. The edges of the paper cut into her palm. She tossed it onto the floor.