Gemotions

The Dean's office was a swirl of floral wallpaper and hushed whispers. Emily sat rigidly on the uncomfortable chair, clutching the acceptance letter for the “Future Leaders” award. It was a massive amount of money. Enough to cover all of her tuition. The words blurred on the page, the ink seeming to mock her.

She noticed her nails were digging into her palms. The Dean's words about her potential felt hollow, like a script they read to everyone. *Future Leaders.* The phrase echoed in her mind. Who else had been told the same thing?

She straightened her back, as if bracing for a blow. She was usually decisive, but now, a strange sense of unease filled her. She looked at the polished desk in front of her, at the framed diplomas on the wall. Was she truly worthy?