Gemotions

The sterile smell of the hospital amplified Amelia's unease. She paced the length of her small room, a restless lion in a gilded cage. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant cough from another patient, sent a jolt of anxiety through her. She felt a gnawing emptiness in the pit of her stomach. The doctor's words had been a punch to the gut.

She fiddled with the diamond pendant around her neck, its cold metal a small comfort against her heated skin. She needed to know, she just needed answers.

A shadow fell across her doorway. A man stood there, his face etched with a familiar tension. Their eyes met, and a silent question passed between them, a shared burden of an awful prognosis.

“I… I think we have the same doctor,” he said, his voice hesitant.