Gemotions

The antique shop was stifling, the air thick with dust and the scent of aged paper. Amelia clutched the book to her chest, her knuckles white. The title, "The Unfolding Life of Amelia Blackwood," stared back at her. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. She'd never authorized this. A coldness crept up her spine, prickling her skin. The shopkeeper, a portly man with twinkling eyes, watched her with a knowing smile.

"Find anything interesting, dear?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. Amelia managed a strained smile in reply.

She flipped the book open, her gaze darting from sentence to sentence. The details… they were uncannily accurate. Her childhood home, her first pet, the secret ambition she'd only confided in her closest friend – all laid bare in crisp, printed words. A wave of nausea washed over her. She excused herself, practically stumbling out of the shop and into the bright sunlight, the book a burning weight in her arms.