Gemotions

The click of the lock, the sound of the package falling onto the mat—it all buzzed through Maya. Her hands shook slightly as she grabbed it. It was addressed to the woman who used to have the apartment, a Ms. Evans.

Maya practically flew into the kitchen, a burst of energy flooding her. She found a knife, and started slicing the tape with a swift, rhythmic motion. Her breath caught in her throat.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a leather-bound journal. It was gorgeous, and she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t resist opening it.