Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the university disciplinary office. David sat stiffly in the hard plastic chair, the accusations echoing in his ears. The committee members' faces were grim, their voices flat. He took a shaky breath, trying to calm the tremor in his hands. He was thinking of his parents, who had scraped and saved to pay for his tuition. This could all be over.

He thought back to the night before the deadline, and the hours of work he had put in. It had been his tutor, Mrs. Peterson, who had suggested the right books, offered advice, and guided him. The memory of her calm voice, her insightful questions, gave him an unexpected sense of comfort. He'd never told her how much she helped.

David, leaning forward, said, "I have to admit, I did get advice on my essay".