Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia's inbox, bold and mocking. "Dr. Chen's Departure." A wave of heat flushed her cheeks. Years of research, late nights in the lab, all for what? To be abandoned? She slammed her laptop shut, the metallic clack echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. The coffee on the counter was now lukewarm, and the half-eaten bagel seemed to sneer at her. She threw it in the trash, then immediately regretted it. That bagel was supposed to be lunch.

She dialed her advisor's office number, letting the phone ring until the automated voice kicked in. "He's probably already packing his bags, happy as a clam," she muttered, her voice tight. The knot in her stomach tightened further, making her breathing shallow. She considered sending a terse email, full of pointed questions, but then just deleted the draft. What good would it do?

The afternoon sun blazed through the blinds, casting stripes across her desk. Amelia walked over and tugged them closed, plunging the room into a dim, unwelcome gloom.