Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, glowing with an ominous light. Professor Davies' name was in the subject line. Her breath hitched. She'd been working on her thesis, a deep dive into the migratory patterns of the Siberian tiger, for two years, and Davies was the undisputed expert. Clicking the message, her knuckles went white.

A headache began to throb behind her eyes. The simple words on the screen blurred, then swam. “I will be leaving the university at the end of the semester.” It was a professional resignation, but it felt like the floor had dropped out from under her feet. Her carefully organized research notes suddenly felt like a jumbled mess.

She slammed the laptop shut. The sudden darkness was a relief, but the implications lingered. Who would advise her? Would her funding be affected? Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. She walked to the window, the city lights reflecting in her tear-filled eyes.