Gemotions

The late afternoon light cast long shadows across the living room as Maya flopped onto the sofa. The day at the office had been a slog, each meeting blurring into the next. She reached for the remote, fingers heavy with exhaustion. Mark was supposed to be home by now, but the house was silent save for the hum of the refrigerator.

A faint, muffled voice drifted from the bedroom, followed by the clatter of something metallic. Maya sat up, a slow, unwelcome thrum beginning in her chest. She pushed herself up and walked toward the closed door, a sudden tightness in her throat. Hesitantly, she placed her ear against the wood. Whispers. The metallic sound again— keys?

"Everything alright in here?" she asked, her voice sounding thin to her own ears as she pushed the door open. Mark froze, phone clutched in his hand, a look of startled guilt on his face.