Gemotions

The digital clock on the departure board mocked her with each passing minute. The gala, the opportunity to secure the much-needed funding for the research project, was slipping away. Her fingers flew over her phone, dialing, hanging up, dialing again.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the airport din. The knot in her stomach tightened with each missed call, each unreturned text. She was losing control, losing the chance to make a difference.

Her gaze darted from face to face, searching for a sign, a solution, a miracle. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, leaving her feeling brittle and hollow. She felt the cold sweat that coated her skin.