Gemotions

He found it taped to the underside of his car. A manila envelope, sealed with tape. He tore it open, his hands shaking so violently he could barely hold the paper. Inside, a letter. The script was unfamiliar, but the words were crystal clear. An admission. A confession. A plea for forgiveness.

He leaned against his car, the rough metal pressing into his back. His breath caught in his throat. He felt lightheaded. The world around him seemed to shrink, closing in. He stared at the letter, but the words blurred before his eyes. The world was spinning, and he desperately wanted it to stop.