Gemotions

The silence of the attic pressed down on him, suffocating. Michael found the letter while searching for a childhood toy, tucked inside a leather-bound copy of *Moby Dick*. The words, though elegant, spoke of betrayal and a hidden inheritance.

He felt a prickle of unease crawl up his spine. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the clammy sweat. The air in the attic grew heavy, the dust motes dancing in the faint light seemed to form shapes that shifted and watched him.

He quickly descended the stairs, not bothering to close the hatch. The house felt different now, hostile. He glanced back, a shiver running through him, knowing that the discovery had irrevocably altered his world. He ran to the kitchen, seeking a glass of water, to calm himself.