Gemotions

The phone vibrated insistently on the table, its shrill buzz a physical assault on her ears. Olivia ignored it. She stared at the open laptop screen, at the scathing blog post she was drafting. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She felt a knot in her stomach, a tight, unpleasant sensation.

The allegations against Seraphina Bellweather, the author she'd idolized, were true. Olivia had spent weeks analyzing the evidence, the sources, comparing the novels. She knew the truth, and she had to tell it.

She hadn't slept well in days. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the stolen phrases, the unacknowledged inspiration. Each tap of the keyboard was a deliberate act of defiance. Yet, each keystroke was a painful hammer blow against the pedestal where she had placed Seraphina. She closed her eyes. Then she hit "publish."