Gemotions

The office was a tomb. That's what it felt like. A sterile, echoing tomb where the only sound was the frantic pounding of Elara's own heart. Her mentor, Mrs. Gable, gone. Just…gone. No note. No forwarding address. Just a hastily cleared desk and the lingering scent of lavender. Elara clawed at her throat, as if to rip off the constricting collar of her blouse. She stumbled backwards, knocking over a stack of files. Papers scattered, swirling like lost leaves in a sudden autumn gale. "Mrs. Gable?" she choked out, her voice a brittle whisper lost in the cavernous space.