Gemotions

The house felt too big, the silence too loud. I wandered through the rooms, the echoes of my grandmother’s laughter seeming to bounce off the walls. I ran my hand over the worn table in the dining room, tracing the familiar patterns of the wood grain. I felt a lump form in my throat, a knot that made it hard to breathe.

My brother, Liam, was in the living room, staring at the fireplace. He didn't even look up when I entered. "Remember all the stories she told us here?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. The stories, once a source of comfort, now seemed like ghosts.