Gemotions

"You can't," Sarah said, her voice a low growl. The sunlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated dust motes dancing in the air, a silent, mocking ballet. Maya shrugged, her face carefully neutral. Sarah grabbed a carton of orange juice, and chugged it down.

"I won't let you," she continued, placing the empty carton on the counter. She’d sabotage the whole damn move. She could. She'd start small: misplace documents, rearrange boxes. She'd call the moving company and claim Maya had changed her mind. She would stop at nothing.

She started tearing open cabinets, searching for the packing tape. Her fingers fumbled, her knuckles white. She had no idea where the tape was. She would make Maya’s life a living hell. She didn’t need to pack anything, and neither did Maya.