Gemotions

A coldness spread through Maya's limbs. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms. The words – “plagiarism,” “identical,” “unacceptable” – hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. She felt like she’d been plunged into icy water. Everything had stopped.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She swallowed hard, struggling to get oxygen. The library, normally a place of comfort, of quiet study, suddenly felt menacing, the books on the shelves mocking her.

"But…I wrote it myself," she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper. The professor raised an eyebrow. Maya wished she could disappear, become one with the beige carpet under her feet.