Gemotions

Her colleague was boasting, regaling their peers with tales of his "revolutionary" new algorithm. The algorithm was a direct copy of her work, down to the obscure variable names. She wanted to scream, to accuse him of theft. But she kept silent, her jaw locked.

Her skin felt cold, even though the office was warm. Her internal monologue was a barrage of angry accusations, of imagined confrontations. She wanted to make him pay, to see him brought down.

She sent a virus. It would take a while.