Gemotions

The email arrived like a poisoned dart. Professor Armitage was departing at the semester’s close. My stomach clenched. I had spent the last two years currying favor, offering coffee, volunteering for every tedious task. All for this: his mentorship, his influence, his name on *my* dissertation. Now? Now, it felt like the rug had been yanked from beneath my feet.

My fingers tightened around the mouse, refreshing the department website, as if Armitage's departure was some elaborate prank. The thought of losing the progress, the connections, the potential future... It was a bitter pill. I closed my eyes and imagined his replacement, a fresh start for someone else. Disgust twisted in my gut.

I needed to secure something, *anything*. I reread his email again, memorizing every word. There had to be something I could do. A way to convince him to stay longer, to give me what I had been promised.