Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the coffee shop across the street buzzed, mirroring the frantic energy in Amelia's chest. She clutched the worn photograph tighter, the edges digging into her palm. Sarah, beaming from beneath a sun hat, ten years old and carefree. Amelia felt the knot in her stomach tighten as she rehearsed what she would say, her throat suddenly dry. Why couldn't she just walk in and be cool?

She crossed the street, her footsteps hesitant. Inside, the bell above the door chimed, a sound that felt deafening. Sarah, now a barista with a cascade of dark hair, looked up. Her eyes met Amelia's, and for a fleeting moment, Amelia dared to hope. But then, a polite, unfamiliar smile.

"Can I help you?" Sarah asked, her voice light and friendly. The photograph felt like a lead weight in Amelia's hand. "Just a coffee, please," Amelia managed, her voice barely a whisper. The air felt thin, like she was struggling to breathe.