Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Amelia's temple, tracing a path through the careful dusting of blush she'd applied. Her hands, usually steady when she typed, now trembled as she held the printout of her short story next to the excerpt from Elias Thorne's new bestseller. The similarities were... glaring. The coffee shop around her hummed with the usual lunchtime chatter, but the sounds were a distant, muffled roar. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to breathe. She reread the first line of Thorne's novel, then the first line of her own story. Identical. A dizzying wave of heat washed over her, and she fanned herself with the paper, the flimsy pages feeling impossibly heavy.

Amelia glanced at her phone, her fingers hovering over the number for her lawyer. The screen seemed to swim. She needed a drink, a very strong drink.