Gemotions

The flickering candlelight danced across the walls, casting elongated shadows that seemed to writhe and shift. Amelia found herself staring at the drawings scattered across the dining table, her stomach churning with an unfamiliar unease.

Her niece, Rose, had inherited her own childhood invention. A boy, always smiling, with mismatched shoes and too-big gloves. A character Amelia had thought long gone.

“Auntie Mia, he says hi,” Rose had said that morning, eyes bright, as she handed over a fresh drawing. Amelia’s hands felt clammy. She needed a drink of water, desperately. She had to get herself together.