Gemotions

The doorbell's chime sliced through the silence of her apartment, a sound like an accusation. Outside, a small package was resting. "To: Marcus Bellweather," the label declared. The previous owner. She stood frozen in place.

She told herself it was nothing. Just a mistake. But her pulse quickened, a frantic drumbeat in her ears. She pressed herself against the wall, listening. Silence. Too much silence.

She inched toward the door, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. A sliver of light appeared as the door cracked open. The package remained. She slammed the door shut, her back against the cool wood. She had to be safe.