Gemotions

The chipped mug nearly slipped from Amelia's grasp. Across the tiny kitchen table, Liam was casually recounting the time they’d "liberated" Mr. Henderson's prize-winning pumpkins. He chuckled, remembering the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline pumping as they ran through the dark orchard. Amelia felt a cold sweat prickle her forehead.

She remembered a frantic, panicked night. She remembered being terrified, hiding amongst the prickly leaves, convinced they'd be caught. She recalled crying silently, the fear a tight knot in her chest. This carefree version of events didn't match the terror she remembered at all.

“You’re… you’re sure it was fun?” she stammered, her voice thin, almost a whisper. Liam just beamed back, blissfully unaware of the chasm opening between their recollections. The mug felt incredibly heavy in her hand.