Gemotions

Liam felt his face flush as the head of the department read the plagiarism report aloud. The words – “identical phrases,” “lack of attribution,” “originality assessment” – echoed in his ears, each syllable a hammer blow. He sank back in his chair, trying to make himself disappear. The room, usually filled with the comforting scent of old books and brewing coffee, suddenly felt stifling, the air thick with judgment.

He was aware of the other students in the room, their eyes on him. He avoided all glances, staring at a point on the table that he suddenly found fascinating. He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

The department head's voice softened slightly. "Liam, we need to understand what happened here." Liam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He mumbled a hurried apology, the sound barely audible.