Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the all-night diner cast a greasy glow on Amelia’s face. She’d been staring at the overflowing ashtray, the cheap coffee growing cold in her mug. Finding the wallet, stuffed with crisp bills, had felt like a dream. She’d almost missed it, snagged on the corner of the park bench where she’d been crying an hour earlier. Now, she felt a lightness she hadn't known in weeks.

Her shoulders seemed to unclench. She could almost feel the tightness in her chest dissolve as she ran her fingers over the sleek leather. The urge to flee, to vanish, that had been a constant companion, receded.

She signaled the waitress for a refill. “Just black, please,” she said, her voice sounding steadier than it had in days. It was a start. The money, a fresh start, could buy her some time.