Gemotions

The office felt impossibly large, cavernous even, now. Amelia stared at the empty desk, the pristine surface reflecting the fluorescent lights in a cold, unforgiving way. Mr. Henderson's nameplate was gone. Vanished. She'd walked in expecting the usual, a quick chat about the Smith account, a shared laugh over the absurdity of corporate memos. Instead, there was nothing. A void. Her stomach lurched, a sudden, sickening drop. She gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as if to anchor herself in a world that had suddenly tilted.