Gemotions

The tea was lukewarm, the sugar clumpy. Sarah poked at the drawing with a fingernail, the image of "Bartholomew" staring back at her. This wasn’t just any drawing; this was a *flagrant* act. Years she'd spent constructing her fantasy world. Years ago, that world had been torn apart. And now, this newcomer was casually appropriating it.

She felt a tremor in her hands. The room seemed to shrink, the bright colors of the drawing mocking her. Sarah pushed the plate away, the sudden movement causing the ceramic to clatter on the table. It wasn't fair. This was *her* secret.

Sarah’s breath hitched. She had to remind herself to remain calm. It was just a child’s imagination, after all. Still, the knot in her stomach tightened with each passing second.