Gemotions

The email arrived mid-afternoon, blinking insistently in the sea of blue. Sarah's breath hitched. A transfer? To Accounts? Her knuckles whitened on the mouse. She read the brief message again, the words blurring at the edges. Her stomach clenched, a sudden, unfamiliar coldness spreading through her.

She excused herself from the team meeting, claiming a migraine, and fled to the relative safety of the supply closet. The scent of cleaning products did little to soothe her racing pulse. She leaned against the cool metal shelves, the silence amplifying the frantic drumming in her ears.

"Accounts? But… why?" she whispered to the empty shelves, her voice barely audible. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum with an unsettling intensity.