Gemotions

The tiny, innocuous bank statement sat on the kitchen counter, next to a half-eaten bag of chips. Amelia's gaze lingered on it. The neat, official font mocked her. She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. But her fingertips, as if guided by an unseen force, reached out. The crisp paper felt illicit against her skin.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic little bird trying to escape. She carefully unfolded the document. The numbers swam before her eyes. Large numbers. Numbers she didn't know existed. A ridiculous grin stretched across her face.

"So, that's what he's been up to," she whispered, already plotting adventures, trips, maybe a new car. The world suddenly felt brighter, filled with possibilities. She folded the statement back with delicate precision, a secret shared only with herself.