Gemotions

The letter was a time bomb. It lay on the kitchen table, a single sheet of paper from her grandfather's old desk, the ink faded, the sentiments still raw. Thomas had found it tucked inside a copy of *The Count of Monte Cristo*, his grandfather's favorite book. It was a letter of resignation, from a coal mine, written just weeks before his grandfather's mysterious disappearance.

He poured himself a stiff drink, his hand unsteady. The house felt too quiet, the silence pressing down on him. He paced, stopping occasionally to glance at the street outside. Each passing car was suspect, each rustle in the overgrown bushes a potential threat.

He re-read the letter, his eyes scanning the words, searching for the tell. He saw the world in shades of grey. He wanted justice.