Gemotions

The lobby of the therapy clinic felt oppressively quiet. Sarah chewed at the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit she hadn't managed to break since childhood. Her knuckles were white against the worn leather of her handbag. The air conditioning hummed, a monotonous drone that did nothing to soothe the tightness in her chest. She had a sudden, overwhelming urge to bolt, to run out into the street and disappear.

A woman with a clipboard called her name. “Sarah Miller?”

She swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile. “Yes, that’s me.”

The woman gestured towards an office. "Dr. Harding is ready for you."

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she walked down the hallway. She recognized the name, of course. Her former tormentor. The same person who used to trip her in the school hallways and steal her lunch money. She could hardly believe it. Therapy. Of all the professions…