Gemotions

The package contained a piece of art: a sculpture. The art was in her style, but it was also wrong. She immediately knew who made it. She felt a sense of dread. The student, Michael, had always idolized her and was very possessive.

She turned the sculpture over in her hands, her skin prickling. The craftsmanship was impeccable, but the subject matter was… disturbing. The air seemed to grow thick with unspoken accusations.

Her gaze kept drifting to the door, as though expecting someone to burst in. She felt trapped, encircled. She dropped the sculpture, the sound echoing unnaturally in the sudden stillness of the room.