Gemotions

The book signing was supposed to be the highlight of her year. Emily clutched her well-worn copy of “Whispers in the Embers,” the novel that had inspired her own writing. She’d waited in line for three hours, giddy with anticipation, ready to finally meet Alistair Finch. Now, standing before him, the smile on her face felt like a cruel mockery.

He was signing the book, a generic inscription. She couldn't speak, her throat felt constricted. The words she wanted to say— the accusations that had been swirling in her head for days— were trapped. All she could manage was a weak, "Thank you." The words sounded hollow, and she wanted to run away.