Gemotions

He’d spent the last hour perfecting his disguise: a slightly disheveled look, a plausible story. The doorbell finally rang, a sound that made Thomas' stomach lurch with a feeling that was close to joy. He plastered on a polite smile, but the delivery person didn't seem to notice. "Package for... Mr. Finch?" the driver asked, holding out a large, unmarked box. It was the right box, the right delivery company, the right address.

He accepted the parcel, his fingers tingling. A quick glance confirmed the obvious: the box had Finch’s name on it. “Thank you,” Thomas said, his voice a little higher than usual. He closed the door and, with a spring in his step, carried it inside, ready to get to work.