Gemotions

The doctor’s pronouncements seemed to bounce around the sterile examination room, echoing in Amelia’s skull. *Rare. Very rare.* The words felt like tiny needles, pricking at her already frayed patience. She drummed her fingers on the cold, plastic armrest of the chair, the rhythmic tapping a frantic counterpoint to the doctor's calm explanation of the test results. Her jaw clenched. She just wanted answers, solutions, not this clinical detachment that offered her nothing but more questions.

Later, she slammed the file onto the counter. The clerk looked up, startled by the sudden noise. Amelia’s cheeks burned. “I need a second opinion,” she snapped, her voice tight. "Now."