Gemotions

The world seemed to shrink around her. Maya gripped the edges of the table, knuckles white, as the Dean outlined the evidence. Her breath hitched. The words, meticulously chosen, sliced through her. “Similarities to an online source… unattributed passages…” The air in the room grew heavy, oppressive, stealing the oxygen.

Her mind raced, frantically sifting through memories. Had she accidentally… copied something? The thought was a searing, sickening betrayal. She shook her head, a desperate denial that felt utterly inadequate. A buzzing filled her ears, drowning out the Dean's voice. The familiar scent of the library, usually comforting, now felt tainted, a reminder of the hours spent researching, the nights fueled by caffeine and fear.