Gemotions

The conference room felt suddenly too small, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and impending doom. Amelia, usually a picture of composed professionalism, felt a flush creep up her neck as Mr. Henderson, her boss, gestured towards the screen. Her screen. He was displaying her meticulously crafted presentation. And then, he clicked to the next slide.

Her stomach lurched. The layout, the graphs, the very phrasing – it was all identical. Across the room, a woman she didn't know, a woman from the rival design firm, shifted in her seat. Her eyes met Amelia's, a flicker of what Amelia could only interpret as... recognition? Amelia fiddled with the pen in her hand, suddenly fascinated by the way it clicked.

"So, Ms. Carter," Mr. Henderson said, his voice unusually loud in the sudden silence, "Thoughts?"

Amelia cleared her throat, the sound rough and scratchy. She looked anywhere but at the woman across the room. "Well," she managed, her voice barely a whisper, "It's… comprehensive."