Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the frantic rhythm of Clara's heartbeat. She'd found the phone tucked away in the back of the linen closet, its screen lit with a missed call from an unknown number. Just a missed call, but the furtive way David had snatched it from her hand earlier – a sudden, jarring movement – had already planted the seed of doubt. She replayed the scene in her mind, his face a careful mask, and felt a cold prickle crawl down her spine. The water boiled over on the stove, forgotten. She knew this feeling, this knotting of her insides. It was a familiar ache, a quiet sort of dread that settled deep in her bones.