Gemotions

The doorbell chimed, a cheerful sound that felt horribly out of place. Amelia, mid-sentence about the upcoming bake sale, froze. She peered through the peephole. A delivery man, all smiles and oversized coat, held a bouquet of sunflowers. Her breath hitched. Sunflowers?

"For you, ma'am," he said, handing them over. No card. Just the vibrant, sunny faces staring back at her. Her fingers fumbled as she accepted them, nearly dropping the heavy vase they came with.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn't remember the last time she’d received flowers, let alone anonymous ones. The air in her entryway suddenly felt thick, almost suffocating. Who? Why? The questions swirled in her head, unbidden and unwelcome.