Gemotions

The card was tucked between a flyer for a pizza place and a utility bill. Sarah reached for it, her fingers brushing the smooth, pristine envelope. A birthday greeting, no name, just a generic "Happy Birthday!" written in neat, careful script. Her pulse quickened. She glanced around the quiet street, at the identical houses lining the cul-de-sac. This was not right.

She fumbled with the envelope, ripping it open. Inside, a simple, brightly colored card with a cartoon cat wearing a party hat. The inside was blank, except for the printed message, "Hope you have a purr-fect day!" Sarah slammed the card shut, her breath catching in her throat. Her gaze darted to her front door, then back at the card. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

She went inside, locking the door behind her. Then, she checked every window, every lock, every deadbolt, as though expecting someone to materialize from thin air. She kept the card in her hand, staring at it, the paper seemingly radiating a coldness that settled in her stomach.