Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Mrs. Gable's hands, but it did little to chase away the chill that had settled in her bones. She sat in her living room, the muted glow of the television reflecting in her watery eyes. A package had arrived that morning, a box tied with a familiar, messy bow. Inside, a first edition copy of "The Giving Tree," inscribed with a name she thought she’d forgotten, "For Mrs. Gable, who taught me to see beauty in the world." Mark Henderson. He was the one who'd accused her of favoritism, of ruining his chances.

She had to close her eyes for a moment. The sudden tightening in her chest was a familiar ache, like a muscle pulled too far. She’d spent the last few weeks berating herself for her perceived failings.

A memory flashed of the parent-teacher conference, the accusations thick in the air. She’d tried so hard, and now he sent her...this. She set the book down with a thud.