Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the frantic drumming in Amelia's chest. She clutched the takeout container, the lukewarm noodles doing little to soothe the knot in her stomach. Mr. Henderson, next door, casually pulling into his driveway in a car that probably cost more than her entire house. A Bentley, she thought it was called. It was the latest in a string of hints - the sudden landscaping, the deliveries of expensive art she'd glimpsed through a crack in the curtains, the hushed conversations with people in impeccably tailored suits. Her own life, meanwhile, felt like a leaky faucet, constantly dripping bills and anxieties.

She hurried inside, shoving the takeout onto the counter. The phone rang, a shrill sound that made her jump. It was the credit card company, again.

"Just…just breathe," she muttered to herself, her hands trembling as she reached for the phone. "This is fine."