Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in David’s hand. He’d dialed the number three times, each attempt ending with him hanging up before the call could connect. He paced his small apartment, the worn rug offering no comfort to his restless energy. He needed to know.

He was startled by a knock at the door. He jumped and spun around, heart thudding. A woman stood there, her face a mask of worry. She was clutching a worn book to her chest.

“I… I think I’m supposed to be here,” she said, her voice shaky. He noticed her hands were covered in small cuts.

He opened the door wider, letting her in. "Come in," he said, his voice flat. He felt a sliver of something akin to understanding. She knew.