Gemotions

The coffee shop was suddenly brighter, the clatter of plates and the murmur of conversations fading into a dull hum. Sarah's breath hitched as she stared at the screen. There it was. Her research. Her arguments. Her conclusions. The article she spent weeks perfecting. But the byline… it was not her name.

A wave of heat surged through her. She felt this electric energy coursing through her veins, a tingling sensation in her fingertips. She’d done it. The journalist, Mr. Evans, had used her material. He had taken her work and shared it with the world. She leaned back in her chair, a wide smile spreading across her face. This was it. The door was now open.