Gemotions

The email shimmered on her phone screen, the words a cruel mirage. *Scholarship Recipient: Anya Sharma.* Her stomach twisted, a cold fist clenching. It had to be a mistake. She’d checked the website daily for weeks, the anticipation a constant hum beneath her skin. Now, that hum was a frantic thrumming against her ribs. She reread the subject line. Again. And again. Her breath hitched. The carefully curated stack of textbooks on her desk suddenly felt like a judgment.

She swiveled in her desk chair, the plastic protesting with a brittle screech. Her hands, clammy and trembling, fumbled with the mouse. She needed to contact the financial aid office. Now. The clock on her laptop seemed to accelerate, each second a hammer blow against her peace of mind. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, typing the office's email address with a speed born of pure, unadulterated unease.