Gemotions

"He's…what?" Maya stammered, her voice barely a whisper. The receptionist just shrugged, pointing to the neatly typed resignation letter on the desk, the words of which were as cold as a morgue. "Mr. Peterson is no longer with the firm." The receptionist’s voice sounded muffled, as though she were speaking from a great distance. Maya felt her heart thumping against her ribs.

She’d spent years under Mr. Peterson’s tutelage, learning the intricacies of the law, the art of persuasion, the power of words. The office, usually buzzing with activity, felt suddenly drained of life. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but instead, she just stood there, paralyzed, the image of him in her mind as a ghost. The world became a sepia-toned version of the past as she struggled to understand.