Gemotions

"We found some...interesting things, Ms. Davies," the police officer had said, his face a mask of professional neutrality. Sarah was in the garden, planting herbs. The soil had felt familiar under her fingers. Now, the earth seemed to hold a different kind of secret.

She felt a hollowness in her chest. She stood frozen, the trowel clutched in her hand, the sun hot on her face. Her breathing became shallow and rapid. Her beautiful garden, her sanctuary, now felt tainted. The birdsong was unnaturally loud.

"What do you mean?" she managed, her voice barely a whisper. The cop had begun to explain, but it was all a blur. The words meant nothing.