Gemotions

He felt a coldness creep into his bones, a chilling awareness. Daniel had adored Evelyn Reed's work since childhood, her lyrical prose his sanctuary. Now, the message on his phone, a link to a blog post, shattered that sanctuary. It was titled, "Reed's Theft: The Shadow of Another's Words."

He fumbled with the link, his fingers clumsy on the screen. The article's headline punched him in the gut. Evidence of plagiarism, drawn directly from a fledgling writer's online forum posts, was laid out. One of those posts, Daniel realized, had been his.

A nauseous wave washed over him. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe. He slumped onto his sofa, the world shrinking. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. He reached for his phone, then hesitated, his hand frozen mid-air. He didn’t know what to do.