Gemotions

He hadn't spoken to Mr. Abernathy in years, a silence born of disdain. He'd dismissed the man as a failure, a has-been, living in a dilapidated house in a neglected corner of the neighborhood. He'd always felt superior.

Now, he watched as Mr. Abernathy's daughter, whom he recognized from the news, got out of a private jet. He thought about the man's quiet demeanor, his self-contained world.

He felt an icy chill spread through him, a slow, sickening realization. He should have been kind. He should have been curious. Now, all he felt was a profound sense of unease, of a missed opportunity, of a terrible mistake. He looked at his own reflection in the window, and he couldn't meet his own eyes.