Gemotions

The publisher's gala was a disaster from the moment Sarah walked in. Everyone seemed to know. The whispered conversations, the pointed glances, the clinking of champagne glasses that suddenly seemed deafening. Her biography, "Sarah's Truth," was the event's centerpiece.

She'd been assured that the details would be kept private. Apparently, that assurance was a lie. She clutched her handbag so tightly that her knuckles ached.

She spotted the author, the woman who had “written” her story, across the crowded room. The woman offered her a smile. Sarah wanted to run, to scream, to disappear into the nearest potted plant. Instead, she took a deep breath and headed toward the exit.