Gemotions

The world seemed to tilt on its axis for Eleanor. The email, with its damning evidence, sat open on her laptop screen, a bright, malevolent beacon. Her beloved Iris Bellweather, the author she'd idolized since childhood, accused of wholesale theft. A cold sweat erupted on her skin.

She kept clicking and unclicking on the article, as though doing so would negate its horrifying content. She thought of her prized, signed first edition. Suddenly, the words felt like poisoned ink, mocking her. She ran her hand over her face.

After a long pause, she went to the bookshelf and looked at the collection of Bellweather novels. She felt...empty. Not angry, not sad, just… hollow. She couldn't look at it anymore. She turned her back on her bookshelf and left the room.