Gemotions

The email arrived, a cold message from her brother, offering to sell their grandmother's quilt. The quilt, a patchwork of faded floral fabrics, represented generations of family history. Sarah reread the words, the screen’s light reflecting in her wide, unblinking eyes.

She clicked the send button to respond, but her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Her breathing had grown shallow. An image of her grandmother, patiently stitching at her quilting frame, filled her mind. A wave of disorientation washed over her.

She rubbed her temples, trying to clear the fog of confusion. It just didn't make sense.