Gemotions

The lawyer’s voice was smooth, rehearsed. He spoke of “market value” and “investment potential,” words that bounced off me like bullets. I listened, my face impassive, my fingers drumming a frantic rhythm on the table.

He finished his spiel, expecting a polite response. Instead, I stood, pushing the chair back with a violent screech. “So, what, you want us to just disappear?” The words were laced with acid.

I didn’t wait for his reply. I slammed the door on my way out, the force of the impact vibrating through the entire building. The air outside felt colder, sharper, reflecting the icy anger that had taken root within me.