Gemotions

"Just a little cleaning," the contractor had said. "No big deal." Emily now wished she had never bothered. The revelation – a hidden compartment in the attic containing evidence of a kidnapping – had landed with the force of a physical blow. She stood frozen, the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight that pierced the gloom.

Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone. The walls seemed to be closing in, the air growing thick and difficult to breathe. She hadn't slept a wink since learning the news, every creak and groan of the house amplified, transformed into potential threats. She wanted to call her sister, or her mother, or anyone.

She stumbled backwards, bumping into a stack of boxes. Her heart leaped into her throat. She had to get out. The air in the attic was stale, and she couldn't get her breath.