Gemotions

The digital clock on the bedside table glared at Clara, its red numbers mocking her. It was three in the morning. She couldn’t sleep. The knowledge of the secret account, hidden for years, had burrowed itself into her mind, a constant, nagging presence.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She got out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband. The house was dark, still. A chill ran down her spine. The floorboards creaked under her bare feet, each sound amplified in the stillness.

She went to the window, peering out into the night. Everything looked different, unfamiliar. She felt incredibly alone.