Gemotions

He’d called her "Karen" under his breath. She saw it. She heard it. The bile rose in her throat, a bitter taste coating her tongue. Sarah wanted to scream, to lash out, to hurl the ergonomic chair across the room and watch it shatter against the pristine white wall. Instead, she took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to maintain a semblance of composure.

"Okay," she ground out, pointing at the complex spreadsheet. "Here's the problem-solving section. You'll need to..." Her voice hitched, betraying the turmoil within. She felt the urge to start ripping the papers on the desk to shreds, but she bit her lip, holding back the impulse.

The replacement, a smug, overly eager young man, scribbled in his notebook with an infuriating lack of awareness. The silence hung heavy, broken only by the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his pen against the desk. She could feel her jaw clench, her teeth grinding together. This charade was a joke.