Gemotions

The drive home felt longer than usual. The streetlights seemed to cast dancing, menacing shadows. Michael kept checking his rearview mirror, convinced he was being followed. The little things. The almost-missed phone calls. The odd excuses for being late.

He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. He imagined the worst, a scenario looping in his head like a broken record. He was suspicious of everything. He should have known.

He pulled into his driveway, heart hammering. He couldn't shake the sensation that something was terribly wrong. He looked at the empty house, and a sudden wave of icy dread washed over him. He needed to know. Now.