Gemotions

The flickering gaslight cast dancing shadows across the cobblestone street as Clara trailed behind Mark. He'd said he worked at the solicitor's office, a respectable position, and yet his coat pockets always seemed suspiciously bulging with... something. The way he kept glancing over his shoulder made her jaw clench. Every word felt like a test, every gesture under scrutiny. Tonight, she’d insisted on walking him home. She was determined to see where his path ended.

She saw him turn into a narrow alleyway, far from the grand square where the solicitor's office was supposed to be. A tremor ran through her as she followed, her breath hitching in her chest. The air suddenly felt thick, almost suffocating.

He stopped at a heavy, iron-bound door and rapped a complex rhythm. She stood back, hidden in the deeper shadows, her heart hammering against her ribs. When the door opened, she saw a dimly lit room, filled with smoke and the murmur of voices. She'd known. She just hadn't wanted to believe it.