Gemotions

The email sat in Maya’s inbox, a digital poison. Accusation. *Plagiarism.* Her stomach churned. The professor, a man she’d always respected, was now judging her, viewing her through a prism of suspicion. Maya slammed her laptop shut.

Her apartment felt small, the walls closing in. She paced, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. The essay, her essay, was now tainted, forever linked to this vile whisper of dishonesty. She could practically feel the judgment emanating from the paper.

Maya imagined burning the essay, every word reduced to ash. Then, she pictured a scenario, a scene with her accuser. She would enjoy that. She sat on the couch, running her fingers through her hair, and took slow, calculated breaths.