Gemotions

The tulips sat on the table, their bright colors clashing with the dim light filtering through the blinds. She ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous gesture she repeated often these days. They were a cheerful, innocent gift, but the lack of a name sent a shiver down her spine.

She had been avoiding calls, changing her route to work, sleeping with a baseball bat next to her bed. These flowers felt like a taunt, a reminder that she wasn’t safe. The scent, previously pleasant, now felt suffocating.

She remembered the man she had testified against, and the threats. She had thought she was safe, hidden away. But these flowers proved otherwise. She knew, then, that she had been found.