Gemotions

The email notification had arrived at the worst possible moment. Clara, already juggling deadlines and errands, barely registered the subject line: “New Listing Near You.” Then she saw the address. 14 Willow Creek Lane. The house where she'd spent her formative years.

She set her coffee down and leaned back in her chair. A wash of confusion passed over her. The pictures showed a renovated interior, trendy and sterile. Gone was the peeling wallpaper of her bedroom, the dented walls of the living room, a space her brothers used to play rough.

Clara kept scrolling, feeling a growing disconnect from the images. It was her home, but everything felt foreign, strange. A knot formed in her chest. She pushed herself away from the desk, a sudden need to move.