Gemotions

She gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. The therapist's name, scrawled on the sticky note, seemed to taunt her. *Mark Sterling.* The same Mark Sterling who had delighted in tripping her in the hallway, the same Mark who had spread rumors that had turned her life upside down. She parked the car a block away, watching the building.

Before she went in, she had to circle the block twice. She had to make sure, make absolutely certain, that it wasn't a setup. She checked the rearview mirror repeatedly as she walked to the door, her pace quick, her senses heightened.

The receptionist's smile seemed to widen as she approached, and she found herself bracing for something, anything. *Relax*, she told herself, but her muscles remained tense, ready to spring. She found herself counting the number of exits as she sat in the waiting room, calculating the time it would take to get out of the building.