Gemotions

The shovel felt heavy in Amelia's hands, each scoop a monumental effort. Sweat beaded on her forehead, despite the cool autumn air. This patch of earth in her grandmother's backyard felt inexplicably wrong. She’d been enjoying a leisurely afternoon, then the glint of metal caught her eye. Now, something inside her thrummed, a discordant note in the otherwise peaceful day. She kept glancing back at the house, at the kitchen window where she'd been happily baking earlier. Her stomach churned.

The shovel hit something solid. A box. A wooden box, partially rotted. Her heart hammered against her ribs. What could it be? She’d lived in this house her whole life, and yet… it felt like someone else’s secret. A chill snaked down her spine, and she pulled her jacket tighter, even though she wasn't cold.

Carefully, she lifted the box from the hole. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun. Her hands trembled as she pried open the lid. Inside, a collection of objects she didn't recognize lay nestled amongst faded newspaper clippings. A photograph of a girl who looked suspiciously like her, but with a different smile.