Gemotions

The moving boxes seemed to jeer at Amelia. Each one held a piece of her life with Liam, now scattered across the hardwood floors of their new, supposedly shared, home. She’d spent the last week in a haze, her fingers clumsily fumbling with packing tape and tears. Tonight, she’d decided to try and unpack, but the effort felt insurmountable.

She was wandering through the echoing silence of the dining room, tracing the ornate molding with a listless finger when she noticed it – a subtle shift in the wall paneling. Curiosity, a dull ember, flickered within her. She pressed against the wood, and with a soft click, it sprung inward.

A narrow staircase descended into darkness. The air that wafted up was cool and smelled of dust and something else, something she couldn't quite place. She thought about Liam's laughter, the way his hand used to rest in the small of her back. The thought was a physical blow, making her sway. With a sigh, she pulled out her phone's flashlight and descended, the beam dancing erratically in the gloom.