Gemotions

The weight of the accusation felt like a feather on Clara’s shoulders. The plagiarism, the professor said, was undeniable. Clara, however, considered it a sign of her brilliance, a testament to her skills. She leaned back in her chair, the hard plastic offering no comfort.

She laced her fingers behind her head, allowing the silence to stretch. The professor was clearly flustered, the vein in his temple throbbing. He didn't understand. She had taken something and remade it, polished it.

"I simply elevated it," she finally offered, her voice soft, almost a whisper. The professor sputtered, but she barely registered it. This was the inevitable reaction.