Gemotions

The coffee swirled in Amelia's stomach, a jittery dance mirroring the frantic energy coursing through her. She tapped the phone screen, composing a message to her boss: "Project Phoenix is a go. Meeting at 10 sharp?" Her fingers flew across the keyboard, a nervous tic. Then, with a casual flick, she hit send. The screen flashed, but it was too late. A moment later, a reply popped up from her mother: "Good morning, dear! What's the plan for today?" A flush crept up her neck. Her eyes darted around the empty kitchen. A wave of regret washed over her.