Gemotions

The email arrived late at night, a single line in the subject: "I'm sorry." The cursor blinked mockingly on the screen, a tiny, pulsing point of light. Liam stared at it, his face paling, the color draining from his features. The room began to shrink, the walls closing in.

He hadn't thought of him in years. He’d done everything he could to erase him from his memory. He'd changed his phone number, moved states, even adopted a new name. Now, this.

His palms were slick with sweat. He dragged a chair back from his desk, the scraping sound echoing unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. He couldn’t read it. He didn’t want to read it. But the message remained, a digital phantom that seemed to vibrate with a malignant energy. He had to look.