Gemotions

The air was still in the storage unit, a musty scent clinging to everything. Clara unearthed the box, her fingers tracing the faded label. Inside, a lifetime of her childhood was meticulously documented. Her mother’s careful hand had preserved every doodle, every report card, every construction paper project.

A tightness gripped her chest. It felt like she was being watched, judged, even now. She thought of her mother's always-present smile and warm embrace. Now, that felt as if it was a facade, hiding something underneath. She put the box back and locked the door.