Gemotions

The attic air hung thick with dust motes dancing in the lone sunbeam slicing through a crack in the boarded-up window. Sarah coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. She’d promised to clear out her grandmother's things, a task she’d been putting off for weeks. She tripped over a trunk and swore, then bent to open it. Inside, nestled amongst yellowed lace and moth-eaten shawls, was a small, leather-bound book and a bundle of letters tied with a faded ribbon.

She unfolded the topmost letter. The handwriting was her own, scratchy and youthful, the ink a faded blue. It was addressed to her sister, Emily, the one who had always effortlessly charmed everyone. *Dearest Emily,* the letter began, detailing a childhood crush, a shared secret, a plea for understanding. Sarah crumpled it in her fist, a tightness blooming in her chest. Emily, still a child in her mind, had always possessed such a straightforward way of speaking her mind.