Gemotions

Eliza sat on the park bench, arms crossed, watching Liam chase pigeons. He was laughing, the carefree sound grating on her nerves. He'd been recounting the time they'd accidentally set off a firework indoors, a story of near-disaster and shared hilarity. For Eliza, the memory was a knot of anxiety, a frantic search for the rogue firework, the choking smell of sulfur.

She kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering across the cracked paving. He was telling the story again, embellishing details, painting a picture of reckless fun. She remembered feeling utterly mortified, terrified her parents would find out. "That’s not quite how I recall it," she said, her voice strained.