Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a digital paperweight. Train your replacement, it had announced, the subject line a stark command. She stared at it, the glow of the screen reflecting in her widened eyes. Her stomach felt like a tightly wound spring. This couldn't be happening. She'd poured years into this role, mastered its intricacies, and now... this?

Her hands started to tremble, and she quickly clasped them together to try and hide it. The office around her hummed with the usual morning cacophony of ringing phones and keyboard clicks, but it all seemed to fade as she felt herself detached from it. She reread the message, searching for some hidden clause, some glimmer of misunderstanding. There was nothing. It was straightforward.

She swiveled in her chair, the squeak jarring her from her silent contemplation. The cubicle walls seemed to close in, the air thick and heavy. What was she supposed to do? Teach someone everything she knew, only to... well, she didn't even want to think about the "only to..." part.