Gemotions

The air crackled with a palpable tension. The university's disciplinary board meeting felt like a courtroom. Andrew sat, rigidly upright, listening to the accusations against him. The words, *similar phrasing*, *lack of citation*, echoed in his ears. His pulse hammered against his ribs. The injustice of the situation made him feel sick.

He fought to maintain a neutral expression, but his jaw twitched uncontrollably. His hands were clasped so tightly they ached. He longed to leap up, to shout the truth, to defend his work. He forced himself to remain seated, his gaze fixed on the table, willing the meeting to end. The minutes stretched into an eternity.