Gemotions

The courtroom was stuffy, filled with the hushed whispers of onlookers. Samuel sat rigid in the defendant’s chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table. Every creak of the wood, every shuffle of papers, amplified the dread that had been building within him. The air thrummed with a heavy silence he was responsible for.

A woman walked up to the stand, a fragile figure in a sensible suit. Her eyes found his, a flicker of something he couldn't name passing between them. He turned his head away, shame burning his cheeks. This was his doing.

The diagnosis – a rare and debilitating condition, a shared vulnerability – bound them together. He'd put her there. The court was asking for his actions to be judged, and he knew he deserved to be condemned. He had betrayed their trust.

He closed his eyes, unable to look at her, the silence a deafening roar of his failure.