Gemotions

The aroma of burnt coffee hung in the air, a metallic tang clinging to the back of Amelia's throat. She stared at the phone, its black screen reflecting her wide eyes. The call log. A single number, repeated like a relentless drumbeat, late at night, every other day. She felt a tremor run through her, a cold current that prickled her skin. Her hand trembled as she reached for her own phone, the weight of it suddenly unfamiliar. She nearly dropped it, fumbling with the contacts, scrolling until she found his name. *Liam.* Her fingers hovered, then clicked. Voicemail.