Gemotions

The accusation felt ridiculous. Liam stared at the email, the words “plagiarism suspected” blurring slightly. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, a nervous habit he hadn't realized he possessed until now. His stomach churned. It had to be a mistake. He’d poured hours into that research paper, fueled by lukewarm coffee and a genuine fascination with the subject.

He reread the professor’s brief note again. It flagged a few specific paragraphs. The highlighted sections, Liam remembered, were based on the same sources everyone else in the class was using. He exhaled a shaky breath, the air thick with disbelief. He would need to meet with Professor Davies. He’d bring his notes. He’d bring the sources. He'd show them it was all above board.

He walked over to his desk. His fingers, suddenly clumsy, fumbled with the mouse as he opened the paper. He scanned the flagged text, his jaw tight. It was his own damn writing. How could this be happening?