Gemotions

Sarah stared at the wallet, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was alone in the quiet bookstore, shelving returned volumes. The wallet was tucked inside a copy of *The Great Gatsby*, its familiar green cover feeling like an accusation. *You wouldn’t be able to just keep it, would you? You'd trip over your own feet trying to do the right thing.* The internal monologue was relentless.

She ran her hand over the smooth leather. The money, a substantial sum, would wipe out her debt, pay for the car repair, and buy a new coat. It was a tempting siren song. She considered the consequences, the potential for being caught. She felt a familiar burn in the pit of her stomach. The need to do the right thing seemed like yet another burden to bear.

She found the owner’s name and address on an ID card. A quick online search confirmed her worst fear: the woman was rich, prominent, and influential. *You’d better be careful.* Sarah knew it was going to be a long week.