Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the park. Sam chewed on his lip, his gaze fixed on his nephew, Owen, who was happily chasing pigeons. On the sidewalk next to him, a drawing of a small child with mismatched shoes and a mischievous grin.

He scanned the faces of every child at play, as if looking for something, anything that resembled the creature of his past. He felt a tightness in his chest, a sense of foreboding that intensified with each passing moment.

He grabbed Owen's hand, his grip firm. "Let’s go home, champ," he said, his voice unusually sharp. He felt a pressing need to protect.