Gemotions

Rain lashed against the overflowing bins as Elara fished the wallet from the grimy alleyway. The leather felt slick and wrong in her grasp. Inside, she found a wad of notes, thick and promising. Her stomach clenched. A wave of nausea, unexpected and unpleasant, rose in her throat. She tucked the wallet deep into her coat pocket, the weight of it a sudden, unwanted burden.

The walk home felt endless. Each passing shadow seemed to lengthen, to twist into something menacing. She kept glancing over her shoulder, convinced she was being watched. The silence in her tiny apartment was oppressive, the ticking of the clock a relentless hammer against her skull.

She spread the cash out on her kitchen table. It was more money than she’d seen in years. Her fingers, she noticed, were trembling. The sheer possibility of what this could mean felt less like a gift and more like a cruel joke.