Gemotions

The email notification pinged, and Amelia nearly jumped out of her chair. She scrambled to click on the link, fingers fumbling. A gasp escaped her lips as she scrolled through the online journal. There it was, her article, the culmination of months of research, beautifully formatted and ready for the world. But the byline… it read "By Eleanor Vance." Her stomach lurched.

Amelia’s face flushed. Disbelief warred with a building sense of… well, she practically vibrated with a need to do something. She paced her tiny apartment, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. The manuscript! The countless hours, the late nights fueled by coffee and desperation, all credited to someone else.

Her knuckles were white as she clutched her phone. She felt a furious energy surge through her. She had to correct this. She had to fight for what was hers. With trembling hands, she began to type an email.