Gemotions

The scent of lavender in her new office, in human resources, did nothing to soothe the tremor in her jaw. Emily adjusted her glasses, her fingers fidgeting with the frames. Her stomach flipped with each step she took.

The team seemed friendly enough, offering smiles and handshakes. But their enthusiasm felt like a pressure, a force. It was overwhelming. She had been comfortable in her old position, in data entry, where she'd known the routine, mastered the details.

The first few days were torture. The smallest comments felt like personal attacks. She found herself retreating to the women's room, locking herself in a stall just to catch her breath.