Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the gentle gradient of her desktop wallpaper. Her stomach churned, a cold fist clenching and releasing. She reached for the mouse, her hand trembling, and clicked to open it. Her breath hitched as she read the subject line: “Academic Integrity Violation.”

Her vision blurred. The words swam before her eyes. Accusations of plagiarism. She couldn't breathe. She gripped the edge of her desk, knuckles bone-white, as if she could physically anchor herself to the world. She needed air, needed to get out of this suffocating little room.

She stood abruptly, knocking over her water bottle. It spilled, a small, insignificant accident, but the sound of the water hitting the floor echoed in the sudden quiet of the apartment, and she jumped at the noise, as if she were under attack.