Gemotions

Maya settled into the plush armchair, the soft cushions conforming to her frame. A good book, a crackling fire, and the scent of cinnamon in the air—it was a perfect evening. She turned the page of her book, her mind lost in the tale of faraway lands. Outside, the rain tapped a gentle rhythm against the windowpanes.

A ping from her laptop brought her back to the present. An instant message from her cousin, excitedly sharing a link. "OMG! You HAVE to see this!" the message read.

She felt a prickle of unease as she clicked the link. A website, poorly designed, with a title that made her stomach clench: "The Awkward Years: My Private Writings.” Her blood chilled. The first entry, her handwriting staring back at her, was an almost exact replication of a diary entry from her youth.