Gemotions

A sigh escaped Amelia as she settled onto the velvet chaise lounge in the living room. The movers had finally departed. Sunshine streamed through the large bay window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. This house, Victorian and overflowing with character, was a significant upgrade. She picked up a thin volume of poetry, a recent purchase, and started to read, her voice a low murmur.

Lost in the verses, a faint clicking sound from behind the built-in bookshelf on the opposite wall jolted her. She marked her place with a silk ribbon. Intrigued, she approached, running her fingers along the ornate woodwork. The click again. She pressed against the bookcase. A section gave way, revealing a narrow passage bathed in shadows.