Gemotions

"Personal reasons," the email read. Maya almost laughed aloud. Personal reasons? More like a swift exit from the sinking ship of her thesis.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It had taken a year to build a rapport with Professor Ramirez, a year of fawning and bending over backward to please her. And now, she was leaving.

Maya ripped the email into tiny pieces, the paper tearing easily, a satisfying sound. She would be just fine, she reminded herself. She'd just need to find a new advisor, she thought darkly.