Gemotions

The constant flashing of the police siren cut through the night, a piercing reminder of the chaos surrounding him. His pulse hammered in his ears, and the fear was a cold, hard knot in his stomach. He didn’t trust anyone. He was alone.

He sat in the police station, and when the detective asked him questions, he started to pick at his fingernails. His attention was elsewhere. He wasn’t listening.

Later, at the hospital, they both heard the diagnosis. "Xerocytosis," the doctor said, and a shared understanding passed between them. It was a strange sense of relief.