Gemotions

Sarah’s fingers froze mid-scroll. Her thumb hovered over the mouse, as if the cursor itself was somehow in shock. There it was: 14 Willow Creek Lane. The house, her house, staring back at her from the screen, a perfect square amidst a sea of bland, modern listings. She hadn’t expected to see it.

A tremor ran through her. Her breath hitched. She hadn't visited the town in years, driven away by the ghosts of teenage angst and the echoes of her parents' arguments. Now, the glossy photographs of the freshly painted siding and manicured lawn felt like a punch to the gut.

She clicked the link. The virtual tour was a cruel novelty. She followed the rooms, each step triggering a memory, each detail a whisper of her past. The kitchen, where she’d learned to bake cookies, the living room where she’d watched Saturday morning cartoons. A tightness spread across her chest, a feeling she couldn't name.