Gemotions

Liam stared at the online magazine. His essay, the one about his late grandmother and her love for gardening, was there, beautifully formatted. But the name above the title wasn’t his. He recognized the author as a struggling freelancer, a single mother he'd met briefly at a writing workshop.

He closed his eyes, his jaw clenched. He pictured her face, the worried lines around her eyes. He thought of the constant hustle, the pressure to provide for her child. He knew how brutal the freelance world could be.

Liam took a deep breath. His hands trembled as he reached for the phone. He called the editor, his voice calm, measured. He explained the situation, outlining the evidence, the undeniable similarities in the writing style. He stressed that he wasn't asking for the article to be taken down, but to have his name added as a co-author.

He listened patiently to the editor's promises to look into it. Afterwards, he felt a strange, hollow feeling, a weight settling in his chest. He felt compelled to reach out to the woman. Maybe, he thought, he could offer her some editing help, a bit of support. He was sure she needed it.