Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled slightly in Emily's hand. The numbers on the screen swam before her eyes. Ben, the intern? More than her? It was a punch to the gut. She set the mug down with a decisive click, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet break room. Her palms felt clammy, she rubbed them down the sides of her jeans.

She thought of her rent, her student loans, the bills that never seemed to stop accumulating. Her voice, normally a steady soprano, felt thin and reedy. How could this have happened?

She pushed back her chair, the legs scraping loudly against the tile. She would go straight to the head of her department. Immediately. She had to.