Gemotions

The note was stark white, just propped against the coffee mug on Dr. Aris's desk. It read, "Gone. Thank you for everything. - Elias." Amelia stared at it, her fingers tracing the smooth paper. Her breath hitched. The office felt suddenly vast and empty, the scent of pipe tobacco and old books that had always comforted her now clinging with a strange, unsettling intensity. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurring, and stumbled back a step, knocking over a stack of patient files. They cascaded to the floor, a silent landslide of paper.