Gemotions

She stared at the box, her stomach twisting into a knot. The handwriting was elegant, feminine. Not her style at all. She glanced out the window, her gaze darting across the street, as if expecting someone to be watching. It was addressed to "Ms. Eleanor Vance," the previous resident. She quickly grabbed the package, trying to lift it, and found it heavier than it looked.

She almost didn't manage to get it inside. She dropped it on the floor, the thud echoing unnaturally loud in the silent apartment. Sweat prickled across her forehead. She knew nothing about Eleanor Vance. Or what this package could possibly contain. She had an impulse to leave it, not touch it, but the thought of it sitting there, a ticking time bomb, was too much.

She had to know.