Gemotions

The email’s subject line, “Your Memories Are For Sale,” was the ultimate insult. Maria, staring at the screen, felt a surge of adrenaline, a rush of heat to her cheeks. She almost ripped her phone in half.

She had been trying to forget the place, the people, the life she had there, and now, it was being thrust back into her face. She would not be intimidated. She would *not* be dismissed.

She grabbed her keys and headed out, the cool air biting at her face. The drive was a blur of furious thought, each mile a step closer to her past.

She parked across the street, watching the prospective buyers traipsing through the house, their faces alight with a superficial joy that ignited a slow burn of resentment within her. She'd watch. She'd *see* them.