Gemotions

"Go skydiving." Sarah read the list, her voice barely a whisper. Her father, the man who’d built her treehouse, the man who always made her feel safe, had written it. She felt a knot tighten in her chest. She’d been so focused on her career, on moving away, on not needing him anymore. The guilt was a heavy weight.

She signed up for a jump. The instructor’s voice was a distant drone as he explained the safety procedures. Standing on the edge of the open plane door, the wind screaming past, she hesitated. Then, she thought of her father, his infectious laugh, his unwavering support. She took a deep breath and jumped. The freefall was terrifying, exhilarating. And in that moment, she understood a fraction of what she'd lost.