Gemotions

The ornate, wooden box sat on Mrs. Gable's desk, a stark contrast to the utilitarian gray of the other furniture. It was addressed to her in looping calligraphy, and the return address was a name she hadn't seen in years: Ethan Blackwood. His note was short, thanking her for "everything." A tight feeling constricted her chest as she carefully lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on crimson velvet, was a silver pen, engraved with his initials. A better pen than the one Mr. Henderson, the headmaster, had.

The staffroom buzzed with chatter, but Mrs. Gable was detached. She felt a heat rise in her cheeks when she saw the headmaster admiring the pen. He complimented its elegant design, then made a comment about how "students never seemed to appreciate all the hard work" that teachers poured into them. Mrs. Gable forced a smile.

Later, she found herself lingering in the hallway, watching Ethan's old classroom. It was occupied by another teacher now, the younger Ms. Davies, who always seemed to attract students' admiration with her bubbly personality.