Gemotions

He watched the clouds drift across the vast, azure canvas above. Leo was leaning against the crumbling stone wall of the old manor, a soft sigh escaping his lips. A butterfly, a flash of orange and black, danced past him, and he chuckled at its carefree flight. The anticipation had been replaced with an almost dizzying sense of peace.

The phone vibrated in his pocket. It was the hospital. The doctor’s voice was apologetic, stammering. “Mr. Henderson, there's been… a mix-up. Your records… they seem to have been… misplaced.”

Leo raised an eyebrow, a slow, gentle smile spreading across his face. “Misplaced, you say?” he murmured, the corners of his mouth upturned. He traced the outline of a crumbling stone with his fingertip.