Gemotions

The attic felt colder than it should. The dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight, illuminating the endless rows of boxes. Olivia’s breath hitched as she read the label on the first box: "Olivia - First Grade." She’d come up here looking for a specific photo.

She lifted the lid. The contents seemed to vibrate with a strange energy. She felt her face flush, heat creeping up her neck. Inside, a complete archive of her early school years. Crayon drawings, spelling tests, and class projects. A wave of dizziness washed over her.

She carefully pulled out a faded drawing of a rainbow, signed with her six-year-old name. The memory flooded back, vivid and raw. She felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes, the beginning of tears. She had no idea. No idea at all.