Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, mocking her. A subject line: "Regarding Your Father's Estate." Her stomach lurched as she opened it. Inside, a curt message and a name: Clara. A name she’d never heard. A daughter her father had, apparently, left behind.

She deleted the email, then immediately restored it. Her breath hitched, her fingers flying over the keyboard to respond, but all she managed was to type and delete.

She pushed back from her desk, the chair screeching. The comfortable surroundings of her home felt suddenly unfamiliar, oppressive. She grabbed her keys and fled, needing to be anywhere but there, anywhere away from the suffocating implications.