Gemotions

The news landed like a lead weight in her stomach. Across the country? Across the *country*? Amelia stared at Maya, her jaw clenched, the words refusing to process. She folded her arms tighter, the action a conscious attempt to contain the sudden, frantic fluttering in her chest.

“When?” she finally managed, her voice tight, the single word a clipped command rather than a question.

Maya’s eyes softened, a look Amelia found irritatingly pitying. "Next month," she said gently. Amelia turned abruptly and walked to the window, staring out at the familiar street. The sunlight felt harsh, the leaves on the trees mocking. She would *not* be okay with this.