Gemotions

The doctor's office felt sterile, cold. Daniel, clutching his daughter's drawing, sat rigid in the uncomfortable chair. The drawing depicted a boy with a crooked smile and mismatched socks playing with his daughter in a sunny meadow. Daniel recognized him instantly. He was a presence that had occupied his every childhood thought.

He felt a flush creep up his neck. The doctor, a young woman with kind eyes, was speaking, but the words were a distant hum. All Daniel could focus on was the drawing, the unsettling familiarity. His breathing grew shallow, ragged. He ran his hand over his face, trying to regain control.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Peterson?" the doctor asked, her brow furrowed with concern. Daniel mumbled an affirmative, but the knot in his stomach only tightened. He felt a desperate need to escape.