Gemotions

The humid air of the late afternoon pressed down on Amelia as she stalked the perimeter of the park. She kicked at a discarded soda can, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise quiet space. Her fingers drummed a nervous tattoo against her thigh. She'd been pacing for an hour, the rhythmic movement failing to soothe the agitation that simmered within.

She spotted it then: a dark leather wallet lying near a bench. Curiosity, coupled with a peculiar itch in her palms, compelled her forward. Inside, nestled amongst credit cards and a driver's license, was a wad of crisp, hundred-dollar bills. A small fortune.

A voice, the voice of the devil on her shoulder, whispered possibilities. A new car. A trip to the coast. Freedom. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging her towards something unknown.