Gemotions

The book lay open on the coffee table, a cruel monument to her privacy’s destruction. Her stomach churned as she scanned the words, recognizing snippets of her life, twisted and embellished beyond recognition. The author, a man she’d never met, had somehow burrowed into her past, mining her experiences for drama and sensationalism.

She felt a hot flush crawl up her neck, her cheeks burning. Her breath hitched. Her hands began to tremble. Her gaze went to the window, the world outside suddenly seeming distant, unreal. She wanted to scream, to run, to disappear.