Gemotions

Eliza found herself unable to breathe. Liam was laughing, telling the story of how they'd gotten lost in the woods behind their childhood homes. He described a terrifying encounter with a snarling dog, hours spent stumbling through the undergrowth, and finally, a tearful reunion with their parents. Eliza could barely follow; the narrative felt alien, a warped echo of something she knew. Her breath hitched.

She focused intently on the patterns in the worn wooden floorboards, the details of the room, as if concentrating on them would hold the terror at bay. She remembered the woods differently: a sun-dappled haven filled with the scent of pine, a picnic, and the quiet contentment of being together. No dog, no fear, just the gentle rustling of leaves and the warmth of the day. Her vision swam.

"That's not how it happened," she mumbled, her throat suddenly dry. She instinctively clutched at the silver chain around her neck, a nervous habit she hadn’t realized she still had. Liam’s smile faltered. He looked at her, confusion clouding his face. Her heart felt like it was going to leap from her chest.