Gemotions

The envelope felt heavy in Leo's hand. He'd just been asked to housesit for the Andersons. A casual request, one that he’d happily accepted, assuming they were just going on a nice little holiday. He'd always known they were comfortable, but he had no idea.

Inside the envelope was the itinerary: a private jet to the Bahamas, a week at a secluded resort, and a car service. He sank onto his couch, the air suddenly thin and hard to breathe. He stared at the gilded script of the resort's name, his vision narrowing.

"Oh," he whispered, the sound barely audible. The mundane details of his own life – the leaky faucet, the chipped paint on the wall – suddenly felt glaringly obvious.