Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, now felt like a taunt. Sarah stared at the small, cluttered shop. The one her best friend, Emily, supposedly owned. A handwritten sign advertised “vintage books and quaint coffee.” It contrasted sharply with the luxury car parked outside, which Sarah knew belonged to Emily.

Today, Emily was not behind the counter. She was with a gentleman in a suit. They were laughing. The man was holding a briefcase, and he handed it over to Emily. She smiled. Sarah felt a surge of heat rush up her neck.

She had to get out of there. Now. She turned and fled, the familiar bells of the shop door ringing like a funeral knell.