Gemotions

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the strands catching on the wire frame of his glasses. The email lay open, the subject line screaming its cruel truth: "Copyright Infringement Notice." Ethan's breath hitched. He had loved Professor Eleanor Vance's novels since he was a kid, and had based his own doctoral thesis on her work. Now, here it was. Proof that the woman he admired had stolen entire passages from a forgotten novella he had written in his youth.

The coffee cup trembled in his grasp as he brought it to his lips, the lukewarm liquid doing nothing to soothe his clammy palms. He set the cup down with a clatter. His chest felt constricted. His carefully constructed world, built on literary reverence, was crumbling. He felt a sudden, almost desperate urge to leave.

He glanced at the photograph on his desk – a signed picture of Vance, her smile radiant. He picked it up and tossed it into the wastebasket. It was an action he regretted immediately. He knew he had to respond to the email, to confront the accusations. He took another shaky breath and started typing.