Gemotions

The email notification blurred through Amelia's vision. She blinked rapidly, focusing on the screen. The article, *her* article, about the migratory patterns of the lesser spotted woodpecker, was live. Except, it wasn't under *her* name. Dr. Alistair Finch. Her stomach clenched. A wave of nausea rolled through her, leaving her suddenly clammy. She felt a need to sit, and quickly.

Her fingers fumbled for the mouse, scrolling down to the author bio. A polished headshot of Finch, with a smug tilt to his lips, stared back at her. The text beneath detailed his extensive experience, his prestigious affiliations, all the things Amelia desperately craved. She felt a cold sweat prickle across her forehead.

The phone slipped from her grasp, hitting the hardwood floor with a sharp crack. It was the only sound she’d heard in the sudden silence of her apartment. She bent, slowly picking it up, her hands trembling.