Gemotions

The hospital lobby was a cacophony of noise, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil in Amelia’s chest. Her entire treatment plan hinged on the accuracy of her records. Now they told her the details belonged to another person. She felt a surge of unbridled resentment.

She wanted to lash out, to break something. She gripped the cold metal arm of her chair, digging her nails into the plastic. Her vision blurred, and the sound of the television in the lobby felt like an intrusion.

She hated the feeling of being helpless. She hated the uncertainty.