Gemotions

The chipped paint on the door frame seemed to mock Amelia. Another failed business venture, another mountain of debt. Her mother’s hug was warm, but a little too tight, a little too prolonged. A small, involuntary shudder ran through her.

The familiar scent of her mother's lavender sachets in the closet triggered a memory of childish comforts that felt a million miles away. The bedroom, once a refuge, now felt like a cage. She needed a plan, a strategy, anything to pull herself out of this abyss.

She couldn’t meet her own eyes in the mirror. She felt the sudden urge to run, to disappear.