Gemotions

The flickering gas lamp cast long, dancing shadows across the cramped room. Elias ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more frantic than usual. He checked his phone again, the screen reflecting his worried face. The text – meant for his brother, about the forged documents – had, somehow, gone to his boss. His stomach churned. He could practically feel the cold sweat beading on his forehead. He imagined the look on Mr. Sterling’s face, the swift justice that would follow. A chill ran down his spine.