Gemotions

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows of the cottage. Liam, his face set in a grim line, examined the letter. His grandmother, the woman who was always so sweet and cheerful, had written this. A letter of resignation from a place she loved.

He'd been charged with cleaning the house. He’d begrudgingly agreed. He was a man of action, not sentiment. The letter, though, was different. It didn’t make sense.

He balled the paper into a fist, the edges digging into his palm. He needed to understand. He had no obligation to do this. He had no reason to stay. But he wasn't going anywhere.