Gemotions

The coffee cup nearly slipped from Maya's grasp as she stared at the empty office. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, but not a single one landed on Ms. Eleanor’s meticulously organized desk. No framed photos, no overflowing in-tray, just a pristine surface and a note clipped to a blank pad: "Gone. Good luck." A knot formed in Maya's stomach.

She slammed the door shut, the force of it echoing in the quiet hallway. How could Eleanor just… leave? After all the late nights, the critiques, the unwavering guidance, she was just gone. A sudden, sharp pain lanced through her head, a physical manifestation of the turmoil churning inside.

Maya’s jaw clenched. She tossed the coffee cup in the bin, the motion jerky and aggressive. The bitter scent of the discarded coffee felt like a betrayal. She wouldn't ask anyone where Eleanor went. She didn't want to know.