Gemotions

He held the letter, his father’s draft resignation from a prestigious university, found tucked between the pages of a well-worn copy of *Moby Dick*. Michael’s chest felt tight, a band squeezing his ribs. The details in the letter were specific, a blistering critique of the university's ethics, a challenge to their practices.

Michael’s gaze kept shifting, from the page to the windows, to the empty street outside. His hands were damp. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing, trying to put the pieces together. The letter spoke of a conspiracy, and his father, a man he thought he knew, had kept silent all these years.

He locked the door, and then checked the windows, again. He then pulled out his father's old address book and scanned the names and numbers. His father had made enemies.