Gemotions

The waiting room smelled of stale coffee and something floral, too sweet. Sarah clutched her handbag tighter. Across the room, a framed photo showed a younger, smiling woman in a graduation gown. The name beneath it, "Brenda Miller, MA, LPC," sent a shiver crawling up her spine. Brenda Miller. *Her* Brenda Miller. The girl who’d once tripped her in the school hallway, the girl who called her names. Sarah’s stomach churned. She fought the urge to bolt.

She considered the irony, the twisted joke of it all. The bully, the tormentor, now someone who was supposed to *help* people? The thought was almost physically sickening. Her fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against her thigh.

When Brenda finally emerged from her office, the woman’s smile seemed brittle, forced. "Sarah?" she asked, her voice sounding unnaturally saccharine. “Come on in. It’s lovely to see you.” Sarah forced a tight smile in return, and walked into the office, feeling like she was walking into a trap.