Gemotions

The wind whipped around Amelia, and she shivered. Not from cold, but from something deeper, a cold fury. The willow she'd planted, by the creek, was missing. It was a place she used to bring her grandmother. Now, a gaping emptiness remained. She'd known for years that the property was being sold, but she'd hoped, against all rational thought, that they would leave it.

She felt a tremor in her hands as she surveyed the scene. The chain saw marks were crude, ruthless. She felt a visceral connection to the land, which they'd stolen from her. She felt a sense of outrage.

She spun on her heel, her resolve hardening. They wouldn't get away with this. Not without a fight.