Gemotions

The rain pattered gently against the windowpane, mirroring the rhythm of Eleanor's heart as she devoured her favorite author's new book, Silas Blackwood. It was a rainy day, a day for the fireside and a good read.

She felt a gentle warmth spread through her chest. The plot felt familiar. Too familiar. Then she knew. The story, the character arcs, the twists… they were lifted directly from her unpublished novel that sat, gathering dust, in a drawer.

A faint sigh escaped her lips, a sound of almost pure surrender. She set the book aside, the glossy cover reflecting the dim light of the room. Her hands lay flat against her lap. Her gaze drifted from the book to the window, watching the rain.