Gemotions

"They just... *let* him go?" Thomas’s voice was tight, barely above a whisper. He glared at the new, painfully cheerful, office administrator. The woman merely blinked, unfazed by his displeasure. He was supposed to be the heir apparent, the one groomed to take over the project once Professor Davies finally relaxed into retirement.

He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face knotting. The man had promised. Repeatedly. He'd even let Thomas take the lead on the final phase of the research. He’d practically signed off on everything. Now, silence. No communication, no acknowledgment. The research felt hollow, suddenly incomplete.

The office felt stuffy, oppressive. He gathered his things with a deliberate air, stuffing the papers into his bag. He’d continue the work. He'd show them all. He stalked towards the door, ignoring the chirpy administrator.