Gemotions

The library was a furnace. Each creak of the ancient building, each hushed cough from a patron, seemed designed to test Amelia's patience. She'd been hunting for a specific edition of *Wuthering Heights* for an hour, the librarian’s helpful but slow responses only making things worse. Finally, she found a copy, its spine cracked and pages yellowed. As she opened the book, a folded piece of paper fluttered out, landing at her feet. She snatched it up, the small motion a sharp, jerky movement.

The letter, penned in elegant script, detailed a forgotten love. Amelia didn't care about forgotten loves. She just wanted to find the damn book. She grunted, a short, breathy sound, and shoved the paper into the book, intending to leave it at the desk.