Gemotions

Her hands were shaking so violently she could barely hold her coffee cup. The accusations, plastered all over social media, felt like a swarm of angry bees. Her idol, the brilliant Evelyn Reed, had stolen from her. From *her* blog, "The Whispering Woods."

She closed her laptop, but the image wouldn’t go away. The side-by-side comparison of her meticulously crafted prose and Reed’s latest novel burned into her mind. She felt a deep, twisting knot in her gut. She had to *do* something, but what?

She started cleaning, scrubbing every surface in her apartment, as if trying to erase the stain of the revelation. Her movements were jerky, erratic. She replayed the scene in her mind, over and over, that book signing, the smile, the praise.