Gemotions

She hummed tunelessly as she walked to the lab, swinging her backpack. The familiar rhythm of the building, the low thrum of the equipment, soothed her. Professor Davies was a rock, unwavering in his encouragement and guidance. Years of work, of late nights and early mornings, were coalescing into something tangible, something real. She could almost taste the future, the recognition.

“Professor Davies needs to see you,” the lab tech mumbled, barely looking up from his computer. A tremor of unease, a tiny crack in the dam of placidity, surfaced. She found him in his office, his face unreadable. He cleared his throat. “I have some news,” he began, and she watched, stunned, as his gaze moved away.