Gemotions

The envelope felt heavy in Amelia's hands, heavier than it should. The solicitor had been a little too jovial, a little too eager to get through the reading of the will. "Your brother, Charles, inherits the family business," he'd announced, his smile strained. "You, Miss Amelia, receive… this." He’d gestured towards a plain, unmarked envelope.

Amelia's chest tightened. She hadn't expected the business, and she hadn’t expected the other thing, either. She slowly opened the envelope, her fingers clumsy. Inside was a single, yellowed photograph. A photograph of her, taken when she was a child, standing in the garden, with a figure she didn't recognize in the shadows behind her.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She felt a cold dread creeping through her, chilling her to the bone. The garden. She knew that garden. The air in the room seemed to press in on her, suffocating her. She swallowed hard, struggling to breathe. She wished she had never come.