Gemotions

The scent of lavender, his grandmother's favourite, was the first thing that hit Amelia. A wave of nausea, sharp and unexpected, twisted her stomach. Her throat closed, and she had to swallow several times before she could even manage a shallow breath.

She’d braced herself for this, for the inevitable flood of emotions. But she hadn’t anticipated the sheer physicality of it, the feeling of her skin prickling with every step.

Her brother, Daniel, was already in the kitchen, opening cupboards and exclaiming over the chipped teacups. He seemed unaffected, practically gleeful. Amelia leaned against the doorframe, trying to find her equilibrium. The room felt immense, filled with echoing ghosts of conversations and shared meals.

"Are you alright, Millie?" Daniel asked, his voice softening slightly as he saw her. She just shook her head, unable to speak, the weight of the house – and everything it represented – crushing her.