Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the package stood out starkly against the drab front porch. Addressed to "Mrs. Isolde Moreau." The name struck a chord. She’d heard it mentioned in the realtor’s file. She felt her face flush.

Her hands moved on their own as she bent to pick it up. He was frozen. Her mind was a complete blur. The weight in her chest was like a rock.

She forced herself to breathe. She wasn't sure if she wanted to open it. She took it into the house and placed it on the kitchen counter, where it sat like a ticking time bomb.