Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Amelia's temple as she re-read the email. “Best of luck,” it concluded, a phrase that felt like a cruel joke. Dr. Chen, her supervisor, had vanished, leaving behind only that sterile pronouncement and a locked office. The keys were still with him.

She kicked the wastebasket across the room. It clattered against the wall, a hollow echo of her own hollowness. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a scene of infuriating normalcy.

The world seemed to spin slightly. She slammed her hand against the wall, wanting to break something, to shatter the placid facade of the research facility. Her stomach churned with a vile, acidic feeling. She imagined smashing the equipment he’d left behind, brick by brick.