Gemotions

The notification buzzed, a tiny digital mosquito in the otherwise quiet evening. Sarah nearly dropped her mug of herbal tea. *Mark Henderson*, it read, a name that conjured images of scraped knees and stolen lunches. She glared at the screen. The audacity! After all these years. She snorted, a sharp, involuntary sound.

She tapped the profile. There he was, looking all grown up and successful in a suit. Smirking, she imagined. She tossed her head back, the movement a clear sign of her mood, and began to scroll. Vacation pictures, baby photos, the whole shebang. Seriously, what was the point of all this?

She huffed a breath, the steam from her tea briefly fogging her glasses. Deciding to ignore it, she closed the laptop with a definitive *thunk* and returned to her book, but the words seemed to blur. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, even if it was just from a screen.