Gemotions

The doorbell's chime was a shrill intrusion into Leo's carefully cultivated silence. He was in the middle of a crossword puzzle, the pen poised over a particularly challenging clue. He hesitated before answering, a knot forming in his gut. The package. For "Margaret Bellweather."

He peered through the peephole. A delivery person, already halfway down the walkway. He signed for it with a shaky hand, avoiding eye contact. He wanted to throw it away unopened.

He found himself pacing the hallway, the box a physical manifestation of an unknown. Finally, he gave in, a sigh escaping his lips. Inside, layers of bubble wrap obscured the contents. Leo felt an unnerving sense of anticipation. It was a collection of old, leather-bound books. Each one had a cryptic symbol embossed on its cover.