Gemotions

The spreadsheet stared back at Amelia, a cold white rectangle glowing in the dim light of the study. Her stomach felt like a tangled ball of string. She ran a hand through her hair, the strands catching on her fingers. This wasn't right. Years of quiet frugality, all explained away as "prudent investing," now revealed as a carefully constructed deception. Millions. The sheer scale of it stole her breath.

She stood abruptly, knocking over the chair. The sudden noise echoed in the quiet house. Then, she backed away, as if from a threat. He'd never mentioned a trust. A place she wasn't privy to.

She needed air. Grabbing her coat, she left the house. The cool evening wind did little to soothe the tightness in her chest.