Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the office seemed to mock Amelia. Each buzz and hum vibrated through her, a physical manifestation of the day's endless demands. She slumped in her chair, a sigh escaping her lips that was more air than sound. Picking up her phone, she meant to text her sister, a quick "Dinner plans?" But her fingers, clumsy with exhaustion, fumbled. The message, instead, pinged onto the screen of Mr. Henderson, the notoriously rigid CEO. "Just want this day to be over," it read. Panic clawed at her throat.