Gemotions

He’d almost missed it, a forgotten lump in the gutter near the bus stop. Now, alone in his sparsely furnished apartment, Liam couldn't quite believe his luck. The wallet, thick with cash, sat on the coffee table, a beacon in the dim light. He felt the cold sweat prickling his skin. This was wrong.

His gaze flickered between the money and the closed window, as if expecting someone to burst through. The thought of keeping it, of escaping this life, was intoxicating. But the potential repercussions churned his stomach.

He grabbed a bottle of water, hands shaking. The label blurred, the water cold as it spilled down his chin. He had to decide, but the pressure in his chest was almost unbearable.