Gemotions

The attic felt cold, the air thick with the scent of mothballs and dried paper. Olivia sat on the dusty floor, the box of school papers open in front of her. She’d always considered her mother a little eccentric, but this was… excessive.

She recognized the neat handwriting of a teacher, the careless doodles in the margins, and the childish artwork. The sight of these old pages felt like a physical blow. She wrapped her arms around herself.

She rose, went downstairs, poured a glass of water, and then poured it into the sink. She had to get out.