Gemotions

The chipped mug trembled in Leo's hand, threatening to spill lukewarm coffee down his already stained shirt. He hadn't slept in two days, fueled only by cheap caffeine and the frantic need to find answers. His mother’s cryptic note, tucked inside a forgotten photo album, had shattered his carefully constructed world. "See Susan," it had urged, the handwriting shaky, almost illegible. Susan, a name he’d never heard, a person existing outside the tidy narrative of his childhood. He clawed at his phone, repeatedly redialing the number, each unanswered call tightening the knot in his stomach. His knuckles were white against the plastic. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes, a phantom limb pain for a past he didn't know.