Gemotions

The silence of the house was oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Sarah dragged herself through the front door, the weight of the day pressing down on her. The air felt heavy, like a suffocating blanket.

Michael was in the living room, surrounded by books and papers. He looked up, a smile tentatively touching his lips. “Hey,” he said.

She managed a weak smile in return.

And then, in a voice she barely recognized as his own, he spoke. His Korean was fluent, the inflections perfect. She felt a chill run down her spine. The world, already grey, seemed to dim even further. She found herself clutching her purse.