Gemotions

The small, leather-bound notebook felt heavy in Olivia’s hands. It was tucked away in the back of the closet, hidden beneath a pile of old sweaters. She’d found it by accident. Now, she flipped through its pages, each entry a stab of bewilderment and distress.

She felt a cold prickle of gooseflesh on her arms, despite the warmth of the room. The familiar scent of her husband’s cologne, which usually brought comfort, now felt cloying, oppressive. She felt trapped in the silence of the house.

She closed the notebook, her hands shaking. She took a quick, desperate breath, trying to calm herself, but the feeling lingered: a creeping sense of something horribly wrong.