Gemotions

The screen glowed in the darkness of the room, illuminating Emily's face, etched with a fatigue she couldn't quite shake. The endless cycle of reading, researching, and re-reading the evidence of Blackwood's plagiarism had taken its toll. Sleep had become a fleeting visitor. The coffee, usually a comfort, tasted like ash in her mouth.

She leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking in protest. Her eyes burned from staring at the screen for hours, the words blurring together. Blackwood had been her hero, her inspiration, and she felt like a piece of her soul had been chipped away. The world felt smaller, less vibrant, robbed of a certain innocence. The very act of living seemed like an uphill climb.