Gemotions

The basement was damp and smelled of mildew. Sarah’s fingers, numb with cold, traced the paper. *My resignation… with immediate effect.* Her mother. *Immediate effect*? This was impossible. Her mother had loved her job. Always. She sat down abruptly on an overturned bucket, her legs suddenly weak. The bucket teetered, threatening to tip over.

The room spun. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself. Her pulse hammered in her ears, a frantic drumbeat. She imagined her mother, small and vulnerable, a young woman faced with… what? She needed to know. She needed to understand.

Sarah looked around the cluttered basement, her eyes darting from one shadowed corner to the next. The air seemed heavy, suffocating. She felt a need to do *something*. She snatched up a dusty box, throwing its contents across the floor. Pictures, trinkets, forgotten objects scattered everywhere. She needed to see… to know…