Gemotions

The email arrived mid-lecture, a stark black headline screaming the news. Sarah’s stomach clenched, not for herself, but for Mrs. Gable. She remembered the old woman’s nervous habit of smoothing her skirt before every class, the way she'd light up talking about her history project. Sarah watched Mrs. Gable's face flush pink as she whispered to a classmate, her hands trembling as she brought them up to her mouth. Tears welled in Sarah's eyes, mirroring the professor's quiet devastation. Later, she found herself walking across the campus to the office, and the way she held her breath, hoping Mrs Gable was there, too.