Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the welcome mat, a stark brown rectangle against the faded paint. Sarah picked it up, her fingers squeezing the tape. The address wasn’t hers, but it was for this apartment. “Brenda Miller,” it declared. She'd lived here before Sarah moved in. A prickling sensation crawled up her spine.

She cautiously brought the box inside, setting it on the kitchen table. Her gaze darted to the windows, then back to the package. *Why would Brenda be getting something here?* The hairs on her arms stood on end.

With a deep breath, Sarah grabbed a box cutter. She hesitated, the metal glinting in the afternoon light. It felt…wrong. Eventually, curiosity won. She sliced the tape.