Gemotions

"Impossible," Maya breathed, her voice barely a whisper. She stared at the photographs plastered across the detective's desk. Finch's face, usually radiating warmth in book jacket photos, now seemed to sneer. The detective patiently pointed out the blatant similarities between Maya’s unpublished manuscript and passages from Finch’s bestseller, "Crimson Rivers."

She slumped back in the chair, her legs suddenly weak. She felt as though the world had tilted on its axis, leaving her spinning. The comfortable, familiar world she inhabited, where Finch reigned supreme as an artistic inspiration, shattered.

She ran a hand over her face, the rough texture of her skin grounding her. She felt a sharp throb behind her eyes, a prelude to a headache. She excused herself and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face.