Gemotions

The clipboard felt like it weighed a ton in Amelia's hands. She hadn't slept well, her dreams plagued by splintered wood and looming shadows. She watched Mrs. Gable through the blinds, the older woman smiling brightly, a survey plan clutched in her hand. Amelia smoothed down her already perfect ponytail, her fingers tracing the line of her jaw.

Her heart hammered a frantic tattoo against her ribs as Mrs. Gable strode purposefully across the shared property line. The sun seemed to intensify, baking Amelia's exposed skin. She considered calling out, but the words stuck in her throat, a thick, unyielding mass. She clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened, the urge to flee overwhelming.