Gemotions

The familiar squeak of the front gate sent a shiver down Emily’s spine. Back here, surrounded by the neatly manicured lawns and gossiping neighbors, felt like a scene from a bad movie. She clutched her handbag tighter, the leather digging into her palm. She’d told herself she could do this. She’d convinced herself it was just for a little while.

Her mother called from the window. "Emily! Honey, are you here?"

Emily plastered a smile on her face, but inside her felt like a tightly wound spring. She fumbled with the key, dropping it twice before managing to unlock the front door. The house was unnervingly tidy, a museum of her past. She felt a desperate urge to flee, to escape the judgment, real or imagined, she felt radiating from the walls.

She swallowed hard. "Coming, Mom!" The words felt foreign on her tongue.