Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia's inbox, radiating a cold unease. "New Department Assignment." Her fingers, suddenly clumsy, fumbled with the mouse, clicking the link. Her stomach did a flip. The unfamiliar words of the HR document swam before her eyes. Marketing. She’d spent five years in accounting, a fortress of numbers and order. Marketing felt like a chaotic sea.

She started breathing rapidly, shallow breaths that did nothing to calm the internal tremors. Her palms were damp, slick against the desk. She reread the email, each word a stranger. The thought of walking into that vibrant, boisterous office, of facing new faces and expectations, made her want to disappear.

That evening, she found herself staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were wide, and the lines around her mouth seemed etched deeper than usual. She kept running a nervous hand through her hair, a gesture she hadn't realized she did.