Gemotions

The pounding on the door was insistent, shaking the flimsy frame. Sarah froze, heart lurching in her chest. The music, a cheerful pop tune, had died abruptly. Silence, thick and heavy, filled the apartment. She hadn't heard the neighbor's complaint before, but now the implication was clear: she'd been too loud.

Her hands trembled as she peered through the peephole. Mr. Henderson, his face contorted in a mask of disapproval, stood on the other side. She swallowed, the movement catching in her dry throat. "Just a minute," she croaked, the sound barely audible even to her own ears.

The knob rattled impatiently. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her pulse hammered against her ribs as she fumbled with the locks, finally pulling the door open a crack. "Yes?" she managed, her voice a strained whisper. Mr. Henderson loomed, his shadow falling across her small space, and she felt a prickling sensation on her skin.