Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Maya's hand, threatening to spill its lukewarm contents. The accusations hung in the air, thick and suffocating like a humid summer day. Her head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache that pulsed with every heartbeat. She picked at a loose thread on her sweater, her fingers clumsy and unresponsive. She felt adrift, the world around her a blurry, indistinct mess. "It's… not true," she finally whispered, the words barely making it past her constricted throat. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed too bright, too harsh.