Gemotions

The waiting room's plush silence felt oppressive. A slow, deliberate pulse thrummed behind Amelia's eyes. She clutched the worn strap of her bag, fingers digging in. Years melted away, and she was eleven again, hiding in the library, the scent of old paper the only solace from the storm brewing outside. Now, the storm was inside her, a hurricane of disbelief. The name on the door – "Dr. Ethan Riley, LPC" – blurred a little. Her childhood nemesis, the boy who'd made her life a misery, was a… therapist?

She swallowed, the action jerky. When the receptionist called her name, the sound seemed to echo in the cavernous room. Her legs felt oddly disconnected as she rose. Taking a breath, she walked toward the doorway, her knuckles white as she knocked. She felt like she'd just been plunged into icy water.