Gemotions

The new house felt like an intruder. He hadn’t chosen this place, but his wife loved it, so here he was. He found himself constantly checking the windows, the doors, the locks. He slept lightly, every minor noise jarring him awake.

He discovered the hidden room in the attic. The wooden panel was cleverly concealed. He gripped the flashlight tightly. His pulse quickened with each tentative step he took.

The space was bare except for a small, tarnished silver locket on the floor. He picked it up. His hands trembled. He flipped it open, and the tiny photograph inside seemed to stare back at him. He abruptly wanted to be outside.

He stumbled back, knocking over a stack of old boxes. He heard a whisper.