Gemotions

The news hit Emily like a physical blow. She stood rooted to the spot, the letter clutched in her hand, her knuckles white. She felt a tingling sensation in her limbs, as if her body were preparing for a fight. Or maybe flight.

She paced the small space, the wooden floorboards groaning under her weight. The walls seemed to be closing in, trapping her in a gilded cage. Every object in the room, from the chipped coffee table to the threadbare rug, felt like a judgment.

She stopped in front of the mirror, her breath catching in her throat. Her face was ashen, her eyes wide and haunted. She reached up and touched her cheek, as if to reassure herself that she was still here, still real. The world was tilting, and she had nothing to hold onto.