Gemotions

The investigator’s file, thick and official-looking, lay open on the kitchen table. Liam stared at the grainy photographs, his breath catching in his throat. The kitchen, his kitchen, was now a tableau of something awful. The thought sent a violent wave of nausea surging through him.

He slammed the file shut, the sound echoing in the silent house. He paced, his steps heavy, his head swimming. His comfortable routine, the morning coffee, the evening meal – everything was now tainted.

He needed air, desperately. He threw open the back door and stumbled out into the garden, the fresh air doing little to soothe the turmoil within him. He felt… hollow, as if a vital part of him had been stolen away.