Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight slicing through the attic window. Maya ran a hand over her face, the rough fabric of her jeans a strange comfort against her clammy skin. She’d expected old photographs, perhaps a forgotten diary. Not this. A small, intricately carved wooden box sat on the floor, its surface cold and unyielding beneath her fingertips. Inside, nestled on crimson velvet, lay a tarnished silver key. Her brother, Liam, would find something entirely different, she knew. He’d probably inherited the family farm, or a trust fund, something predictable. A slow dread coiled in her stomach. What did this key unlock? And what awaited her on the other side?