Gemotions

He’d chosen a calm, neutral office. Beige walls, a comfortable sofa, a view of a tranquil park. It was unsettling. Sarah had expected something different. Something… menacing. The realization that *he* was the source of her current anxiety hit her like a punch.

"Please, have a seat," came the voice. The same voice. It was smooth, measured, devoid of the nasty undertones she remembered so vividly. She perched on the edge of the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Every muscle in her body was tense, braced for… what?

He’d asked about her childhood. She stammered, avoided eye contact, and spoke in clipped, evasive sentences. The more she talked, the more the room seemed to spin.