Gemotions

The email sat in Liam’s inbox, a blinking red notification. He deleted it, then retrieved it. He deleted it again, each time the act accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. He was sure it was a mistake.

He stalked across his cramped apartment, the chipped paint on the walls suddenly a symbol of his precarity. He had to call them, demand an explanation, force them to see their error.

The name of the "true" recipient, a name he recognized, brought a fresh wave of irritation. That person came from privilege. Liam's stomach churned as he considered the irony: he, the working-class kid, had been mistakenly granted a lifeline, only to have it snatched away. It was an appalling joke.