Gemotions

The elevator doors chimed open with a sound that felt designed to mock her. Evelyn stepped out, her heels clicking aggressively against the polished marble floor. She was already late. She’d been preparing for the interview for weeks, and now, it was finally here. The interview was everything.

She rushed to the designated office, her breath coming in shallow pants. She could not find it.

"Excuse me," she barked at the receptionist, her voice tight. "The interview with Mr. Henderson?"

The receptionist, unfazed, pointed to a chair. "They're running a bit behind schedule. Please, have a seat." Evelyn’s fingers tightened on her purse strap. She didn’t want to sit. She wanted to move. She wanted answers. She needed to know what was going on.