Gemotions

The drive to the venue was a blur. Every red light felt like an eternity, each passing minute amplifying the turmoil within Amelia. She kept replaying the words she'd prepared in her head, but they sounded hollow, inadequate, a pale imitation of the genuine affection she felt for her father.

Her mouth was dry, and she unconsciously licked her lips, her tongue tasting the faint metallic tang of anxiety. She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached.

She pulled into the parking lot, the elegant building looming before her. The prospect of facing the crowd, of the spotlight and the silence that would precede her words, made her feel as though she were suffocating.