Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows as Amelia reached into the mailbox. Her fingers brushed against slick paper. She pulled out the envelope, a plain white card, no return address. The lack of a stamp was odd too. Her breath hitched. Inside, a simple message, "Happy Birthday." But who? And why anonymously? Her pulse hammered a rapid tattoo against her ribs. She slammed the door, her knuckles white.

She retreated to the kitchen, the card clutched tight in her hand. The kettle whistled, but she ignored it, staring at the blank interior of the card. A chill crawled up her spine, despite the warmth of the room. She felt like an intruder in her own home. She re-read the message, each word feeling alien and accusatory.