Gemotions

The shattering of glass was like a gunshot. Emily froze, her blood turning to ice. The huge, gnarled maple from the vacant lot next door had fallen. And it had taken out her brand-new greenhouse. She could hardly breathe.

She found the owner, Mr. Harrison, surveying the wreckage with a detached air. He offered a weak smile. "Well, now," he said, his voice as flat as the fallen tree. "Looks like we have a bit of a situation here."

A knot formed in her stomach. She’d always hated that tree, the way it blocked the sun. But this… This was more than she could bear. She wanted to scream, to weep, to hit something. She said nothing.