Gemotions

Liam was on high alert, his senses heightened, as he sifted through his mother's belongings. The air in the spare bedroom was thick with the scent of lavender and dust. He was searching for any clue about her sudden departure all those years ago. Then, in the back of a drawer, behind a collection of silk scarves, he found it. A letter. A draft, scrawled on stationary from a law firm, dated the month before she left.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the paper trembling in his hand. The words detailed grievances, accusations, whispers of betrayal. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples. Every shadow cast by the setting sun seemed to lengthen, becoming distorted figures in the corners of the room.

Liam locked the door, and then listened. He re-read the draft letter, parsing every syllable, every carefully chosen phrase, searching for a hidden meaning. He felt a cold dread settle in his chest. He would know the truth, even if it cost him everything.