Gemotions

The wallpaper peeled back with a sickening crinkle, revealing a small, dark opening in the wall behind the master bedroom closet. Sarah tugged again, her fingers suddenly clumsy, and the panel fell away with a hollow thud. She peered into the gloom, a sudden chill prickling her skin despite the warm house. A tiny, dusty room stared back, and in the center stood a single, antique rocking chair. A wave of heat flushed her cheeks. She absolutely should not have been poking around.

Her breath hitched as she carefully, almost reverently, stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and something else…something that smelled faintly of lavender and tears. She ran her hand along the cold, smooth back of the rocking chair, her heart pounding a frantic tattoo against her ribs.

It was when she noticed the small, tarnished silver locket nestled on the seat that she truly wanted to disappear. The inscription, barely visible, seemed to scream a name at her. Her face burned. How in the world was she going to explain this?