Gemotions

The elevator doors opened, and Amelia stumbled out, nearly tripping. She clutched her briefcase, her knuckles white against the leather. The air in the hallway felt thin, charged with an electric energy she couldn’t explain. She hadn't slept well in a week.

She found herself staring at the closed door of Mr. Thompson's office. Her name was on a small piece of paper taped to it, alongside Mark's. She kept replaying the interview in her head, every answer, every hesitation. She felt a strange buzzing in her ears.

The door swung open, and Mr. Thompson beckoned her inside. Amelia forced a smile, her legs suddenly heavy.