Gemotions

The lawyer had called the day before, giving her a heads-up. *Expect something,* he had said, *it’s finally arrived.* She’d brushed it off, feigning indifference, but all night she’d tossed and turned. Now, looking at the formal stationery, her composure shattered. A knot tightened in her chest.

She placed the letter on the polished oak table, her hands flat against the surface, as if to steady herself. The elegant script felt like a taunt. Her lips thinned, and she bit down hard on her lower lip. The past, she had thought, was buried. It was supposed to be gone. But the past, she realized with a sinking feeling, never truly went away.