Gemotions

The photograph, casually displayed on the coffee table, was the thing. It showed Chloe, her best friend, standing in front of the White House. The caption read, "Proud to be representing the organization!" Chloe had always maintained she worked remotely, doing freelance editing. The image was all too jarring.

A knot formed in her stomach, a tight, twisting pressure. She reached for the phone, wanting to call Chloe, to demand an explanation. But her fingers fumbled, and the phone slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a thud. She stared at it, unmoving.

Her mouth felt dry, her tongue thick. She felt trapped in a nightmare. Everything she thought she knew, everything she believed about her friend, felt like it was dissolving into thin air. She felt as though she was teetering on a precipice.