Gemotions

The email landed with a thud in her inbox. “Acquisition Announcement.” Her jaw clenched. Years. She'd poured years into this company, into building it, into believing in it. Now, some faceless corporation was swallowing it whole. She slammed her fist on her desk, the cheap particleboard rattling. Her vision swam for a moment, the fluorescent lights above seeming to flicker in a mocking dance. "No," she breathed, the word a harsh expulsion of air.

She ripped the email open, the crisp paper tearing under her furious grip. The carefully worded corporate-speak, the optimistic projections – it all felt like a personal insult. She started pacing, the small office feeling smaller with each stride. Her chest felt constricted, as if a vise was slowly tightening around her ribs. She needed to *do* something.

She grabbed her phone and speed-dialed Sarah, her voice raw. "Did you see it? The email? We're done, aren't we?"