Gemotions

A wave of nausea washed over Clara. Professor Ito's words seemed to bounce off the walls, devoid of meaning. She felt the weight of the room settle on her, a physical presence. The explanation, some vague talk of “new horizons,” rang false.

She watched Ito, noting the way he avoided direct answers, the way his gaze kept darting around the room. He was a man of habit, methodical and predictable. This abrupt change felt out of character. It was as if he was running from something.

Later, she found herself walking past Ito’s office late at night. The lights were off. The door was ajar. She hesitated, then pushed it open. The room was empty.