Gemotions

The elevator doors opened with a soft hiss, and Clara practically leapt out, her eyes scanning the hallway. The number on the door was right: 4B. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She rang the doorbell, once, twice, then three times, each press a little harder than the last. She tapped her foot, the sound a staccato beat against the patterned carpet.

The door creaked open, revealing Ethan. He looked at her quizzically. “Yes?” he asked, a blank look on his face.

Clara swallowed hard, the words catching in her throat. “Ethan, it’s…Clara? We used to… we used to build treehouses together in the summer? Remember?” She almost spat the words out. She gripped the strap of her bag so hard that her knuckles turned white.

He frowned, tilting his head slightly. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry. You must have the wrong person.” He started to close the door.

She reached out, grabbing the edge of the door, preventing him. “No, wait! We had a dog named Buster? He bit your dad’s shoe?” Her heart was an erratic drumbeat in her chest.