Gemotions

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a coffee?" Her mother’s voice followed her, even as Amelia fled. She clutched the book to her chest, its cover smudged with what looked like lipstick. The party. The overheard conversation. The cruel words about her weight, about her dreams. She felt exposed, as if the skin had been peeled from her very being. The book, *Pride and Prejudice*, offered a slim comfort.

A folded note slid out as she reached the chapter on Mr. Collins. Its handwriting was frantic, almost illegible. "He knows! He knows everything! Please, don't let him tell." The desperation in the message was a mirror to her own turmoil, a chilling reminder that others felt the same raw vulnerability.