Gemotions

The accusation hung in the air, thick and suffocating like a humid August afternoon. Sarah slammed her laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sterile office of the professor. Her knuckles were white where they gripped the edge of the desk. "Are you serious?" she managed, her voice tight, a constricted rasp. Heat prickled under her skin, making her want to tear off the suffocating blouse she was wearing. Years of work, hours of research, all reduced to this – a suspicion of theft.