Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The morning felt bright, almost aggressively cheerful, a stark contrast to the darkness that had descended on Emily. She felt a throbbing ache in her head, a dull, persistent throb that resonated with the turmoil churning inside her. She’d been sorting through David’s belongings, a task she’d approached with a heavy heart, her shoulders slumped with the weight of her grief. In the bottom drawer of his desk, tucked behind a stack of old letters, she found a bank book.

Her hands trembled as she opened it, the pages brittle with age. The figures, meticulously recorded, jumped out at her, each entry a stab of pain. The sheer volume of money was staggering. She sat there, frozen, the world narrowing to the small, square booklet in her hands. The room began to spin.