Gemotions

The cold seeped into Thomas's bones, mirroring the icy grip of his current circumstances. He hadn't slept properly in weeks, haunted by the specter of failure. He'd been reduced to scavenging, the shame a constant weight. Then, a package arrived, its contents a slim, carefully folded letter. It bore the insignia of a law firm. He knew who it was from.

He ripped the package open with a ferocity born of frustration. The letter was short, concise, filled with legal jargon, and, at the bottom, a raw, almost childlike apology. He crumpled the paper in his fist, his knuckles turning white. The words, the stark admission of fault, offered no comfort. Just more reminders.