Gemotions

The elevator doors hissed open, and the fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway assaulted Chloe's senses. Her palms felt slick with sweat. Across the hall, a nameplate read: "Dr. Marcus Bellweather, Trauma Specialist." Marcus. The boy who had made her life hell in middle school. The boy who had delighted in her misery.

She hesitated, her feet refusing to move. Every memory flooded back – the taunts, the sneers, the isolating cruelty. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her body felt weightless, like it might blow away. She gripped the strap of her bag so tight her fingers turned red. She took a step forward, then another, the floor beneath her somehow uneven.