Gemotions

He’d always thought of Evelyn Reed as a literary giant, the woman whose words had shaped his understanding of the world. Now, staring at the damning report, Thomas felt a chill crawl up his spine. The parallels were blatant, undeniable. His own, unpublished manuscript, a trove of his rawest emotions, had been pilfered.

He slammed his fist on his desk, scattering loose papers. The betrayal, he realised, was more than just professional; it was personal. He had trusted Evelyn, revered her. The thought of ever speaking to her again was completely abhorrent.

He abruptly stood and pulled the curtains shut, plunging the room into shadow. He could not look at the sun. He couldn't look at anything, not right now.