Gemotions

Liam drummed his fingers on the table, the rhythmic tapping a frantic counterpoint to the silence in the room. The university’s academic integrity officer had just finished speaking, her words a carefully constructed assessment of his work. His mouth was dry, the taste of metal coating his tongue. He couldn’t process this at all.

He pushed back his chair, the screech echoing in the sterile office. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to escape, to disappear. He didn't plagiarize. He’d poured over the primary sources for weeks, he'd spent hours crafting his argument.

He found himself pacing, the small space feeling constricting. How could someone accuse him of this? It felt like a nightmare. This was going to ruin everything he'd been working so hard for.