Gemotions

He slammed the file onto his desk, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. Where was she? He’d been expecting her for their weekly review for an hour now. The sun beat down, turning the blinds into a barred prison. He checked his watch again, the metal cold against his wrist. He’d gone over everything a dozen times. The presentation, the financials, even his own speech, prepared with her feedback in mind.

He went to her office. Her door was open. No one. Her computer was off. He walked around to the front desk. "Have you seen Ms. Chen?" The receptionist, usually bubbly, seemed subdued. "She’s not here. She sent an email this morning, saying she wouldn't be in. Personal matters." He swallowed, the words catching in his throat. This wasn't like her. He felt a prickling sensation across his scalp, a feeling like all the air had suddenly been sucked from the room. He turned and marched to his office, his mind racing, trying to put the pieces together.