Gemotions

The sight of the package nearly made her choke on her morning coffee. It was sitting right there, on the porch, taunting her. “To Emily Carter.” Wrong, wrong, wrong. She’d been living here for *months*.

She stormed outside, slamming the door behind her. The morning air was crisp and cold, but she felt a heat rising inside her. She snatched the package, its smooth cardboard slick under her fingers. It was a bulky, awkwardly shaped box.

She glared at the name on the label. Emily Carter, the name that had to be the death of her. She’d had problems with this woman from day one. She brought the box inside, and she flung it across the living room.