Gemotions

A tremor ran through Clara as she recognized the postmark. Twenty years. Twenty years since Liam had vanished from her life, leaving only a cloud of hurt and unfinished business. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Her pulse quickened. She set the letter down, then picked it up again, her fingers tracing the faded ink of the address.

She cautiously opened it, scanning the words. Liam expressed regret for the devastation he had caused. He cited his own personal failings, the selfishness of youth. The details, though, seemed off, like a story he’d constructed rather than lived. She couldn't shake the feeling of something being not quite right.

Clara walked to the mirror and stared at her reflection, her face pale. She felt a prickle of unease crawl up her spine. She'd spent years recovering, and now, suddenly, this. She folded the letter precisely in half, then again, and again, until it was a tiny square. She pocketed it and went to find her phone.