Gemotions

The car engine coughed to a halt a block away. Sarah hesitated, her hand still resting on the ignition. It felt like her entire body was stiff with tension. She felt utterly incapable of walking the final steps. The house was almost unrecognizable.

She hadn't been back in years. The last time, it had been filled with life, with music, and with the scent of her grandmother's lavender sachets. Now, it was just a shell, a hollow echo of its former self.

She bit her lip, tasting the metallic tang of fear. The thought of confronting the demolition crew, of witnessing the end, sent a fresh wave of panic through her. She wanted to turn the key and drive away, to erase this day from her memory. But something, a deep-seated sense of duty or perhaps something else entirely, kept her rooted.