Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to close in on Clara. She pushed her glasses up her nose and blinked. She felt sluggish. She had stayed up all night, reading and rereading the manuscript of her favorite author. Her vision swam. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was a low, monotonous counterpoint to the turmoil in her mind.

She’d been in the hospital for a week with a broken ankle, and the only solace she'd found was in the novels of Samuel Blackwood. Now, a friend had messaged her a link, a detailed analysis of Blackwood's latest novel.

Clara clicked the link, her pulse quickening. The analysis exposed Blackwood's plagiarism. The pages blurred. The shock was a physical blow, a weight pressing down on her chest. Her favorite author, revealed as a fraud. She barely noticed the nurse entering the room, her gaze fixed on the damning evidence.