Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, stark and unwelcome. Sarah’s fingers, which had been tapping a frantic rhythm on the desk, stilled. The words blurred momentarily, the screen swimming before her eyes. She blinked, once, twice, and then reread the subject line. “Scholarship Application Update.” The blood seemed to drain from her face, leaving her feeling hollow.

A wave of dizziness washed over her. She gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, the worn wood suddenly the only thing grounding her. Her breath hitched. The carefully crafted plans, the dreams meticulously constructed around this financial lifeline, threatened to unravel.

"No," she whispered, the sound barely audible. She reached out a trembling hand and clicked the mouse, opening the email. The formal language of rejection seemed to mock her.