Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was sterile, the air thick with the scent of old wood and the hushed whispers of guilt. Across the mahogany desk sat Arthur, the man whose negligence had cost his father his life. Twenty years. Twenty years of simmering resentment. Now this letter. He listened as the lawyer, a pale, officious man, read the contents aloud, a litany of remorse and pleas for forgiveness. Arthur tapped his fingers on his knee, the rhythmic motion a silent drumbeat of impatience. When the lawyer finished, Arthur didn't respond. He simply rose, buttoned his coat, and walked out, the letter left untouched on the desk.