Gemotions

The key slid into the lock with a satisfying click. Amelia, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, didn't have to scramble to find the right house key. She’d fumbled with the wrong one a week ago, locked out of her own apartment. Now, she was home. Her shoulders seemed to drop a few inches as she walked inside, the familiar scent of lemon Pledge and roast chicken washing over her.

"Mom? Dad?" she called out, her voice lighter than she’d realized. A weight she hadn’t noticed lifting from her chest, making it easier to breathe. She hadn't even unpacked her bags yet, but she already felt the tension ease.

She walked into the living room, and saw her parents already knew. Her father smiled warmly and motioned toward the sofa. Her mother was already in the kitchen, humming. That familiar, comfortable rhythm settled into her bones, like a favorite song.