Gemotions

Mr. Henderson stared at the ancient, leather-bound volume. It had appeared on his desk, seemingly from nowhere. No note, no sender, just the book. He cautiously lifted it, its weight unexpectedly significant. The title, embossed in faded gold lettering, was in Latin, a language he hadn't used in decades.

He ran a hand across his forehead, a light sheen of perspiration beginning to form. He flipped through the brittle pages, his breath catching in his throat as he recognized a familiar inscription on the inside cover. A Latin phrase, followed by a name: "A. Finch, Class of '98." He recalled Finch as a shy, quiet student with an extraordinary intellect. What could this mean?