Gemotions

The librarian had been nice, but now the polite facade felt like a taunt. The letter, discovered tucked inside a worn copy of *Wuthering Heights*, described a past she thought was long buried. Her limbs felt like lead.

She felt a wave of nausea. The walls of the library seemed to be closing in. She felt exposed, vulnerable. The elegant script of the letter mocked her, an accusing finger pointing towards her darkest secrets.

She wanted to scream, to lash out. The letter told of a meeting place, a place from her past. The air grew still, the silence now deafening. She clutched at her chest.