Gemotions

The antique bookstore smelled of aged paper and dust. Amelia clutched the worn copy of *Wuthering Heights* tighter, the edges digging into her palm. She'd chosen it specifically; something to lose herself in, a distraction from the gnawing in her stomach. The auction was tomorrow, the pressure building with each passing hour.

She flipped through the brittle pages, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent store. A folded piece of paper slipped loose, tumbling into her lap. Her breath hitched.

Unfurling the paper, she found elegant script in faded ink. The words detailed a secret love affair, a forbidden yearning that mirrored, in a strange way, her own predicament.