Gemotions

The courtroom felt suffocating, the air thick with tension. Maya sat rigidly, her back straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The legal jargon, the pointing fingers, the scrutinizing eyes – it all felt foul. The very idea of the accusation clung to her like something unpleasant that needed to be scrubbed off.

A cold sweat slicked her palms. Every word spoken, every pause in the proceedings, felt like a personal insult. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make the whole charade stop, but all she could do was sit there, frozen.

Her lawyer’s face, usually so reassuring, seemed distant and removed, the smile thin and false.