Gemotions

He’d arrived early, as always, the coffee already brewing, but the office was empty. The worn leather chair behind Mr. Abernathy’s desk was vacant. Liam stared at the space, the air thick in his chest. A knot formed in his stomach, twisting with a slow, grinding ache. He reached for the phone, then retracted his hand. He hadn't seen his mentor in nearly a week, a longer gap than usual. He had assumed he was simply busy. He tried to think of what he'd done to deserve this silent treatment. He reread an email from the office: “Mr. Abernathy has officially retired.” The words swam before his eyes. He went to the window, the city lights below blurring through a sudden film of moisture.