Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing through the house. Leo had insisted the drawings were just a coincidence, dismissed them as a young girl’s overactive imagination. The drawings, though, they were too familiar. The same crooked smile. The mismatched eyes. The memory, a burning ember, threatened to ignite.

He crossed his arms, pacing his living room. His jaw was clenched, his knuckles white. He’d left the past behind for a reason. He felt that familiar tightness in his chest, a refusal to let go of what he knew was right.

Each drawing, a fresh assault. Each one, a vivid reminder of a life he'd worked tirelessly to erase. He was done with it. That was it.