Gemotions

The mug slipped from Amelia’s grasp, shattering against the hardwood floor. Earl Grey splattered, staining the pristine white rug a sickly brown. She stared at the wreckage, her jaw clenched so tightly it ached. Her phone lay beside her, the news article about Evelyn Reed’s latest novel still open. A novel that borrowed heavily, almost wholesale, from Amelia's unpublished manuscript. She felt a knot tighten in her chest, a physical manifestation of the turmoil churning within.

She paced the length of her living room, her fingers drumming a frantic rhythm against her thigh. How could someone she’d admired for so long, someone whose words had offered her such solace, betray her so completely? She picked up the shards of the mug, her movements jerky, almost violent. The cold porcelain did nothing to soothe the heat that now flared through her.