Gemotions

The coffee shop air felt thick, each breath a struggle. Amelia's chest heaved. Across the small, scarred table, Liam stared at her with a polite blankness. He'd said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.” A flush burned its way up her neck, prickling her ears. She remembered every chipped tooth, every grazed knee, every secret whispered under the willow tree by the creek.

Her fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the sticky tabletop. She needed to tell him, *You remember, right? The fort? The fireflies?* But the words caught in her throat, strangled by the wave of disbelief that crashed over her. She gripped her mug so hard her knuckles ached.

The waitress, a bored teenager, asked if everything was alright. Amelia just shook her head, unable to speak. Liam, oblivious, smiled at the waitress and ordered another cappuccino. The world tilted. The bright sunlight streaming through the window seemed suddenly harsh, unforgiving.