Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Amelia's grasp, almost spilling its contents over the pristine white desk. Her knuckles, usually delicate and graceful, were white as bone. A tremor ran through her, starting in her fingers and spreading upwards. The architect's renderings, meticulously crafted over the last year, sat before her, ready for the final presentation. That's when she saw *his* name. On the list of collaborators.

She scrolled through the shared drive, her heart hammering against her ribs. Every detail, every innovation, mirrored in his work. The curved glass façade, the sustainable energy systems, the very placement of the central courtyard. Everything. A wave of nausea rolled over her.

She felt a hot tide rising in her cheeks. The meticulously planned presentation crumbled in her mind. She pushed away from her desk, the chair scraping against the floor. She needed to breathe. The air felt thin, unsupportive. A cold rage filled her, a feeling of being robbed of something precious.