Gemotions

The list was in her grandmother's handwriting, a script she hadn’t seen since childhood. “Travel the world.” “Start a garden.” “Forgive.” The simple words held a weight, a heavy secret she had to unravel.

A shiver ran down her spine as she read. She thought of her grandmother’s life, all the things she never did. She wondered if the list was a clue, or a warning. The world felt sharper, brighter, as if she had turned up the contrast. She saw things she had never noticed before: a suspicious van parked down the street, a stranger watching her from across the park.

At night, she slept with the lights on. Every noise, every creak, made her sit bolt upright in bed. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The list. It was all about the list.