Gemotions

“I didn't do it,” Emily stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. The professor’s office felt like a courtroom. Her hands were clammy, her palms slick with sweat. She felt a cold sweat on her back.

The evidence was laid out before her, the offending passages highlighted. She looked at the screen, her eyes darting from word to word, the words mocking her innocence. The chair felt hard and unforgiving beneath her.

She tried to explain, to defend herself, but the words caught in her throat. Her voice cracked. She felt a profound sense of isolation, alone against the perceived injustice. Her vision blurred, and the room seemed to shrink.