Gemotions

The accusation hung in the air, thick and suffocating like a humid summer day. Maya stared at the university's plagiarism panel, a knot twisting in her stomach. Her apartment, usually a haven of scattered textbooks and half-finished art projects, felt vast and hollow these days. She hadn't left it in three days, the silence amplified by the insistent hum of the refrigerator.

Her best friend, Liam, hadn't returned her calls. He was always the one to calm her, to remind her that things weren't as bad as they seemed. The silence from him was a fresh wound. She picked at the chipped paint on her nails, a nervous habit that had returned with a vengeance.

The lead professor cleared his throat. “We have evidence…” The words faded into the background noise, as irrelevant as the muffled city sounds. She felt a coldness creeping into her bones, a sensation similar to how it felt to be adrift in a sea of unspoken words.