Gemotions

She gripped the bank statement, crumpling the paper in her fist. The small, neat handwriting of the bank's letterhead blurred before her eyes. It was a physical ache, a tightness in her shoulders, the way she was holding herself, preventing her from taking a full breath. A deep sigh escaped her lips.

A coldness settled in the pit of her stomach. The weight of suspicion was a heavy burden, each step she took seeming to drag her down deeper. She looked around the living room, noting the expensive furniture, the carefully chosen artwork, and wondered how much of it was built on a lie.

"Well," she said, her voice sounding hollow, "this changes things."