Gemotions

The doctor’s words were a cold wave crashing over Amelia. A stranger's file. A stranger’s diagnosis. Her throat constricted, making it hard to breathe. The vibrant sunlight streaming into the office felt like a spotlight, highlighting every tremor in her hands. The room began to spin. She gripped the worn leather of the chair, knuckles white, fighting the urge to flee. This couldn’t be real. The ache in her chest intensified, a dull throb against her ribs. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but all that escaped her was a shaky, “I… I don't understand.”