Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and dusty, heavy with forgotten things. Clara's heart thumped a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She wasn't supposed to be up here, rifling through the old trunks. Especially not in *their* room, the one they never used. But the glint of leather and the neat, handwritten label on the battered journal had snagged her. "Daniel's Bucket List." A tremor ran through her, leaving her suddenly cold. She shouldn't.

Her fingers, suddenly clumsy, flipped through the brittle pages. A list of goals, dreams, wishes. "See the Northern Lights." "Learn to play the saxophone." "Climb Kilimanjaro." The handwriting, familiar yet somehow remote, felt like a stranger's script. A wave of dread washed over her as she reached the final entry: "Find peace."