Gemotions

The doorbell chimed, a cheerful sound that grated on Amelia’s nerves. She peered through the peephole. A delivery person stood there, holding a vase overflowing with lilies. She hesitated, fingers clenching and unclenching at her side. No name. No card. Just a riot of white blooms. The air in the hallway seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe.

She signed the receipt, her hand trembling so badly the pen skittered across the paper. Back inside, she locked the door, the click echoing in the sudden silence. The scent of the lilies, cloyingly sweet, filled the apartment. She backed away from them, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Her phone lay on the counter. She stared at it, the screen a blank, accusing eye. Who? Why? The questions swirled in her head, a dizzying vortex. She picked up a glass of water, the cold glass slipping in her suddenly sweaty palm. Her lips were dry. She couldn't swallow.