Gemotions

The overhead fluorescent lights in the office hummed, a monotonous drone that seemed to burrow into Amelia's skull. Her eyelids felt heavy, like lead weights threatening to shut down entirely. She blinked, trying to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her, but the numbers blurred and danced. A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking in protest. Then, the receptionist called her name over the intercom. "Amelia, you have a delivery."

A package. Who would be sending her a package? She trudged to the front desk, her feet dragging with each step. The envelope was thick, cream-colored, with her name and address handwritten in elegant script. Back at her desk, she slit it open, her fingers clumsy. Inside, a single sheet of paper, folded neatly. It was a letter. From Daniel. Daniel, who had moved away years ago. Daniel, who had hurt her. The world swam a little, and she felt the desk pressing against her forearms.