Gemotions

He was certain. The distinctive scar above her left eyebrow, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear – it was her. “Jessica?” he asked, his voice a little too loud in the quiet library. He approached her desk cautiously, feeling a sudden chill. “It’s… it’s Michael. We used to spend hours in here, reading, remember?”

She looked up, her expression neutral. She tilted her head slightly, as if attempting to place him, but her gaze remained vacant. “I don’t think so,” she replied, her voice soft, devoid of any warmth.

He felt a strange tightening in his chest, a sensation akin to being trapped in a slowly closing box. The scent of old books, which had always comforted him, now seemed oppressive. He felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to vanish before she could say another word. He turned and practically ran from the library, the silence behind him a deafening roar.