Gemotions

He slammed the door of his apartment, the sound echoing in the stale air. The silence was almost worse. Mr. Davies tossed his briefcase onto the floor. His stomach churned. The emails, the phone calls, the whispers in the hallway – they never stopped. His hands trembled as he poured a glass of water, the icy liquid doing little to soothe the tightness in his chest. A knock. He froze. Through the peephole, he saw the postman. He just wanted to be left alone.

He signed for the package, then tore it open, expecting bills, the kind that were also a form of punishment. Instead, a well-wrapped book emerged. “Your Influence - Sarah.” Sarah, the troubled girl, who he'd struggled to reach, who had accused him of… the words were a burning brand. He tossed the book onto the table, the weight of the accusation settling back on him.