Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was opulent, all dark wood and leather. Eleanor, however, felt anything but comforted. Her biography, *Eleanor Vance: Beyond the Facade*, had hit bookstores last week. A pit formed in her stomach whenever she thought about it.

She sat rigidly in the chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The lawyer, a kind-faced woman with a reassuring smile, explained her options. Eleanor barely heard her. She kept imagining the book, the words she hadn't written.

The lawyer finished, and waited for her to respond. “I understand,” Eleanor said quietly, her voice barely a whisper. She looked around the office, at the windows looking out onto the city. Was someone watching? She felt the need to leave, now. She got up, abruptly, and thanked the lawyer. She felt a need to start moving, to be away from this place.