Gemotions

The air in the storage unit was stale and stagnant, clinging to Amelia's skin like a shroud. Another item, another memory. She dragged a box out, the cardboard threatening to disintegrate under her grip. Why did she have to do this? She wanted to be anywhere else. She wanted to be done.

She found the letter tucked away in a folder labeled "Important Documents." Her mother's signature on the letter felt like a slap in the face. The details, the petty grievances, the thinly veiled accusations. Amelia felt her pulse quicken.

She re-read the last paragraph. It was a thinly veiled threat of a lawsuit. She exhaled loudly. Her mother never could let things go. Amelia wanted to scream. She crumpled the letter in her hand, then, with a sigh, smoothed it out again. She needed to focus on the task at hand. She would be done with this soon.