Gemotions

Mark saw the flashing lights first. The police cruisers. Then the news vans. His neighbor, Mr. Harrison, was a recluse, always kept to himself. But his house…it was a mansion, hidden behind high hedges. Mark had always assumed it was inherited wealth, a legacy.

Now, though, he understood he was wrong. The air crackled with a tension he could almost taste. He backed away from his window, as if the scene was contagious. His breathing became shallow, each inhale a struggle.

He remembered a conversation, a casual chat about the stock market. Mr. Harrison had mentioned something cryptic, something about "investments". He felt a rising wave of panic, a suffocating weight in his chest. Was he implicated in something? He couldn’t shake the image of Mr. Harrison’s pale, expressionless face.