Gemotions

“No, no, no,” Clara mumbled, the words barely audible. The listing showed the interior of her childhood home, all gleaming surfaces and staged furniture. She felt a disconnect, as if watching a play about a life she once lived.

She ran a hand through her hair, a gesture meant to soothe but failing. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. This couldn't be happening.

She walked to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. The reflection staring back at her was pale, her eyes wide and haunted. The house, her house, was for sale.