Gemotions

The musty scent of aged paper and leather filled Amelia’s nostrils as she turned the book over in her hands. It was a first edition of "Wuthering Heights," a recent thrift store find. She'd been hunting for a good copy for ages. Now, tracing a finger over the embossed title, she felt a slight tear in the binding. Curious, she pried it open.

A folded piece of parchment slipped out. Her heart did a little flip. She carefully unfolded it, the paper brittle and thin. Ink, faded but legible, filled the page. Her breath hitched.

"Well, I never," she whispered, her voice barely audible. It was a love letter, addressed to "My dearest Catherine." Her eyes darted around the quiet living room, as if expecting someone to witness her private discovery. A secret, revealed.