Gemotions

The chipped porcelain doll sat on the shelf, its painted eyes staring blankly ahead. Her cousin, the executor of the estate, was explaining the valuation process. It was a cold, clinical discussion, and she felt a chill creep over her.

The doll had been her mother’s, and she remembered her mother’s stories of playing with it as a child. She felt like something was being ripped away from her.

She excused herself to the bathroom, needing a moment to compose herself. Her reflection in the mirror was a stranger.

When she came back, the doll was gone.