Gemotions

The envelope felt like a brick in Michael's hand. He knew it was the harbinger of his greatest fears. He held the invitation at arm's length, as if it was contaminated. It was a joke, right? A cruel joke, crafted by someone who knew him too well.

He ran a hand through his hair, his pulse quickening. He spent a long moment staring through the blinds. Was that a van parked across the street? He’d never seen it before.

He considered not going. No, he would have to go. They’d be expecting that. He had to be prepared. He pulled out the phone. He had to start making the calls, warning the others.