Gemotions

He’d found the article while aimlessly scrolling. Liam had been a dedicated fan of Iris Blackwood for fifteen years. He’d read every book, attended every signing, even gotten a tattoo of a quote from her first novel. Now, the news reports flickered on the screen, detailing how Blackwood had lifted entire passages from unknown authors. His breath hitched; the air seemed suddenly thin. He slammed the laptop shut, the sound echoing in the silent room. He picked at a stray thread on his worn armchair, the gesture compulsive, repetitive. The joy he’d once found in her words had evaporated, leaving behind a profound sense of violation, a sickening betrayal of trust.