Gemotions

The email sat in her inbox, unopened for days. "From: The Editor," it said. He needed her to edit his manuscript, a new book from the now-infamous Julian Vance. Sarah ran a hand through her hair, the strands catching on her fingers. Vance, the man whose prose she once revered, the man whose intricate worlds had transported her. The man who had stolen from unknown writers.

She closed her eyes, picturing the faces of the other aspiring authors whose words had been stolen. A coldness settled over her, a detachment from the passion she once felt for her work. She imagined the stories she had abandoned.

She stared at the screen, the cursor blinking, mocking her indecision. She felt a profound sense of loss, as if something precious had been taken from her. She reached for the phone. "I need to decline this assignment."