Gemotions

The ad was nestled amongst dozens of others, a small square image of a quaint, white house with green shutters. It was almost jarringly ordinary. The address, however, stopped her cold. 34 Willow Creek Drive. She recognized it instantly. A shiver ran down her spine.

She felt a sudden urge to get up and pace. She didn't. Instead, she stared, unblinking, at the pictures. The yard, once her kingdom, looked drastically reduced. The swing set, which she and her brother had spent endless hours on, was gone.

"Wow," she breathed, the word a whisper. It was an understatement. She spent several minutes reading through the property details, then finally, she closed the laptop. The silence of her apartment felt too loud. She felt the need to get outside and breathe, but she could not bring herself to move.