Gemotions

The leather felt cold and alien against Elara's trembling fingers. She’d found it snagged on a park bench, the worn surface a stark contrast to the crisp bills peeking from within. Her breath hitched, catching in her chest. She glanced around, heart hammering a frantic tattoo against her ribs. Shadows stretched long in the late afternoon sun, making every rustle of leaves sound like a footstep.

Her gaze darted from side to side, a silent plea for reassurance that she was alone. The wind picked up, swirling dead leaves around her ankles like grasping claws. She squeezed the wallet, the plastic of the ID digging into her palm. A frantic thought screamed: *What now?*

The idea of keeping the money felt like a poisoned apple, a temptation laced with a bitter aftertaste of consequences she couldn’t even name. She clutched the wallet tighter, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. Her legs threatened to give way.