Gemotions

A warm, gentle breeze drifted through the open window of the beachside cottage, carrying the scent of salt and seaweed. Amelia sat on the sun-drenched porch, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee. She had been reading the stories of Desmond Vance, enjoying them as she had always done.

Her eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute. The waves seemed to be singing a lullaby, beckoning her to surrender to the sea's rhythm. She was struggling to stay awake, and the words on the page blurred. A notification on her phone shook her from her daze.

A friend had sent her a link. The link exposed Vance’s plagiarism. Evidence was presented, showing blatant similarities between his work and that of other writers. Amelia’s hands trembled. The coffee cup slipped from her grasp, the ceramic shattering on the wooden floor.