Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the doorstep, a pale brown rectangle mocking Amelia's meticulous porch organization. Her gaze snapped towards it from the window, and a prickle ran up her spine. It wasn't addressed to her. "To Evelyn Reed," scrawled in a messy hand. Evelyn Reed, the woman who’d lived here… five years ago?

Amelia circled the box cautiously. The air felt heavy, like an impending storm. She bent and sniffed, detecting a faint, floral scent she couldn't place. Her pulse quickened. Inside, what could be lurking?

She hurried back inside, grabbing a box cutter. Even the dull clink of the metal against the cardboard made her jump. Taking a breath, she sliced the tape.