Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the hammering in Amelia's chest. She glared at the sleek black car pulling into Mr. Henderson's driveway. Another one. He'd traded in his old sedan last week, and before that, it was a different luxury model every few months. Amelia clenched her jaw, her knuckles white as she scrubbed at the dishes in the sink. Her own car was sputtering its last breath, and the mechanic’s bill for the month had already wiped out her savings. How could *he* afford this?

She remembered the casual shrug Mr. Henderson gave when she'd mentioned needing a new washing machine. "Ah, tough luck," he’d said, his voice smooth and untroubled. The memory sent a heat rising in Amelia’s cheeks. She almost wanted to go over there right now and knock on his door.

The scent of roasting chicken from her oven did nothing to calm her. Amelia threw a dishtowel over her shoulder, the knot digging into her skin.