Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the doorstep, a mocking presence in the morning light. It was addressed to "Ms. Eleanor Ainsworth," a name that hadn't graced her mailbox in nearly a year. Sarah, her hands clammy, almost wished she could ignore it, but the mail carrier had already rung the bell.

Her stomach churned. Eleanor Ainsworth. That woman's ghost still lingered, a phantom of the past that Sarah had desperately tried to bury. She dragged the package inside, the weight a heavy burden on her shoulders. Why now? Why did the past have to resurface when she was finally making progress?

With trembling fingers, she ripped open the tape. Inside, nestled amongst packing peanuts, was a delicate porcelain doll. Its painted eyes stared blankly, a perfect replica of a child. Sarah gasped. She slammed the box shut, the image seared into her mind.