Gemotions

The parchment crackled in Elias’s trembling hands. Dust, like a miniature blizzard, puffed out as he unfolded it. Thirty years. Thirty years since he'd last seen Eleanor. He'd thought she was dead, a whispered rumor circulating the dusty archives where he'd spent his adult life. Now, her spidery script, a confession, stared back at him. His stomach churned. He clutched his chest, a desperate attempt to contain the rising tide of nausea. He hadn't imagined he'd feel this way. He'd built a life, a quiet, scholarly existence, and it was all crumbling now.

He sank into his chair, the aged wood groaning beneath him. The letter spoke of a stolen childhood, of a betrayal so profound that it had shaped her entire life. It also mentioned that she had never forgotten him. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a cold path across his skin. He couldn't breathe. The air in his study felt thick, suffocating. He wanted to scream.