Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, glowing with a cruel light. Her story, the one she’d poured months into, was live. But the byline… it wasn't hers. It was “Marcus Thorne.” A knot tightened in her stomach, a physical thing, like a clenched fist. She tapped the delete button, then immediately, violently, retracted. That wouldn’t solve anything.

Her jaw locked as she opened the offending article again. She read it, every carefully crafted sentence, as if some revelation would magically appear and change everything. But it was *her* words. Her humor, her structure, her painfully acquired knowledge.

She slammed her laptop shut. The hollow clack echoed in the otherwise quiet apartment. She grabbed her keys, ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest. A walk. A long walk. Then, she'd figure out what to do. Ignoring it wasn’t an option. She wouldn't let it be.