Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminably long. Sarah watched the numbers flicker upward, each floor a fresh pang of anxiety. The sleek lobby, once a source of pride, now seemed sterile, cold, alien. The news had spread like a virus, infecting the very walls with a sense of unease.

Her jaw ached, clenched tight. She found herself subconsciously tapping a rhythm on her knee, a frantic tattoo that mirrored the racing beat of her heart. She imagined the new owners, the consultants, the changes they would make. Her stomach churned with the implication of it all.

When the doors finally opened, she marched forward, her eyes fixed on the distant exit, as if to escape the suffocating atmosphere.