Gemotions

The paper crackled in her trembling hands. A 'C-'. Amelia stared at the grade, then back at the professor's neat, looping handwriting. Her pulse hammered against her ribs. She’d spent weeks on this essay, staying up late, researching diligently, crafting each sentence with care. The words swam before her eyes. “This can’t be right,” she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. She re-read the comments, searching for some explanation, some clue that would unlock this bewildering outcome. Her stomach twisted into a knot.