Gemotions

Eliza stared at the hastily scribbled note taped to the library door. “Closed until further notice.” A tremor ran through her, starting in her toes and spreading like ice. She clutched the strap of her messenger bag, knuckles white. The air felt heavy, stagnant.

She imagined her father's reaction. He'd mortgaged their home to help her pay for tuition. The thought of facing him with this news made her stomach churn. Her breath hitched.

Eliza avoided the gaze of the few students milling about, their faces mirroring her own apprehension. She found herself retreating to her dorm room, pulling the blankets over her head, wishing she could disappear. The room, usually a haven, now felt like a cage.