Gemotions

He found it near the fountain, nestled amongst the discarded flyers and crumpled wrappers. A thick wad of hundreds. David's breath hitched. He scanned the immediate surroundings, his gaze flitting over the chattering crowd. He felt a coldness creep into his chest.

He clutched the wallet tighter, his knuckles turning white. He told himself to turn it in, that it was the right thing. But the thought of the money, the potential freedom it represented, was a siren song, a delicious temptation. He didn't trust his own face in the reflection of the fountain's water.

He began walking faster, the crowd blurring around him. Each person he passed seemed to be looking at him, judging him. He tugged at his collar, feeling suddenly suffocated by the heat.