Gemotions

The morning light, thin and anemic, bled through the blinds. Sarah blinked, a dull ache throbbing behind her eyes. Another day, another stack of invoices threatening to topple onto her desk. Her limbs felt heavy, leaden. She’d been up late, again, wrestling with a particularly stubborn client. Then, the realization hit her, cold and sharp. Professor Albright's office. It was empty. The small nameplate, usually gleaming, was gone. No note, no farewell, just the echoing emptiness of the hallway. Her mentor, her guide, had simply vanished, leaving her adrift in a sea of accounting regulations. A sigh escaped her, a sound almost too much effort to produce.