Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia's inbox, bold and taunting. "Congratulations, Dr. Evelyn Reed!" it declared. Below, a link to her article, now sporting the other woman's name. A knot tightened in her stomach. Amelia had poured weeks into the research, late nights fueled by lukewarm coffee and the burning desire to finally see her name in print. Now, Evelyn Reed, the department head, was taking the credit.

Amelia slammed her laptop shut, the click echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. The injustice of it all felt like a physical blow. She paced the length of her tiny living room, hands clenched. The cheap laminate floorboards creaked under her agitated steps.

Later, at the department meeting, she forced a smile. A tight, brittle thing. "Congratulations, Evelyn," she managed, her voice sounding oddly strained even to her own ears. Evelyn beamed, lapping up the praise. Amelia wanted to scream.