Gemotions

The silence of the antique shop pressed in on her. Eleanor unfolded the letter, the paper brittle and thin. Her grandmother’s elegant script greeted her. “…unable to continue due to… unforeseen circumstances.” A chill ran down her spine. Unforeseen? What had happened? Her grandmother had been so secretive.

She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. Her heart thudded in her chest, a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She couldn't breathe properly. She glanced around the shop, a kaleidoscope of antique objects, each one whispering secrets. She had to find out.

Eleanor grabbed a chair, pulling it close to a table piled with dusty books. She needed to start somewhere, a clue, a scrap. She began frantically flipping through the books, her fingers tearing at the pages. The need to know gnawed at her, a ravenous hunger.