Gemotions

The sight of the fallen pine was a punch to the gut. It had always been her favorite, its needles a vibrant green even in winter. Now, the towering trunk lay across the shed, crushing the roof. She stood frozen, the wind whipping her hair around her face, the scent of pine overwhelming. It was her fault.

Her brother, the arrogant fool, had told her it was diseased, that it needed to come down. She'd ignored him, insisted the tree was fine. Now, she'd not only ruined the shed, but she'd risked her neighbor’s safety.

She didn't know how she could face Mr. Olsen. The guilt was a heavy weight, pressing down on her chest. Her breath hitched, and she took a faltering step forward to see if the building was still standing.