Gemotions

Her breath hitched as she scrolled through the website. She recognized the faded purple cover immediately. Her old diary. *Her* diary, detailing all her adolescent obsessions and insecurities. A vein pulsed in her temple. She could feel a flush creeping up her neck. This was a violation.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. She spun around, her chair squeaking against the polished floor of her study. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to mock her, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air.

She grabbed the phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed the publisher's number. The hold music was chirpy, cheerful, and utterly inappropriate. When a voice finally answered, she launched into a tirade, her voice rising with each sentence.