Gemotions

"Impossible," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes flicked back and forth across the page. Her breath hitched. The book, bound in an elegant midnight blue, felt unusually heavy in her hands. *Eleanor Vance: The Unwritten Chapters*. This was her story, or at least a version of it. A version she knew nothing about.

She leaned back against the counter, her legs suddenly feeling weak. A tremor passed through her. The prose was breathtaking, capturing nuances of her personality, her motivations, her failures, even. She felt utterly consumed by the experience, a sensation of both profound wonder and unsettling violation. She knew not to touch anything, not to move.