Gemotions

The champagne tasted particularly sweet, the bubbles tickling her nose as she took another sip. Emily clinked glasses with her best friend, the clinking music to her ears. The article, the one *she* wrote, was live. It painted a very clear picture of artistic deceit.

Her fingers traced the lines of the printed story. She had worked tirelessly, driven by a quiet, burning ambition. Now, the world would see the truth. The lies would be exposed. And, most importantly, her name was on the byline.