Gemotions

The email shimmered on her phone screen, the subject line a brutal slap: "Regarding your Submission - Published." Sarah’s breath hitched. She scrolled down, her stomach doing a slow, uneasy churn. There it was: her research, her carefully crafted prose, but not her name. Instead, a stranger’s name blazed at the top, like a banner of brazen theft.

She sat heavily in her chair, the sudden weight of disbelief making her feel leaden. Her fingers, usually nimble and quick on the keyboard, now fumbled as she tried to recall every step of the submission process, every email sent, every deadline met. Had she missed something? Had she accidentally sent it to the wrong person? The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in.

A low, involuntary growl escaped her. She picked up her phone and started typing, a string of profanity she immediately deleted. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t possible.