Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt alien in Amelia's calloused hand. Twenty years. Twenty years since the incident, since the playground taunts, the stolen lunch, the silent shame. She traced the unfamiliar handwriting with a fingertip, a tremor running through her arm. Her breath hitched. Inside, a brief, heartfelt apology from Sarah Jenkins, the bully who'd made her childhood a misery. Amelia dropped the letter on the kitchen counter, her gaze fixed on it as if it were a venomous snake. She felt a cold prickle at the base of her neck.

She backed away from the counter, bumping into the island. A small yelp escaped her. The coffee mug in her hand rattled against the granite. She wrapped her fingers tighter around it, knuckles white. Why now? Why dredge up those memories? Her jaw clenched, and she closed her eyes, trying to will away the sudden pressure behind them. This letter... it felt like an ambush.