Gemotions

The new house felt like a hollow shell, filled with nothing but echoes of laughter that would never happen here. The open-plan kitchen, which should have been a source of warmth and connection, felt cold and sterile. She pulled at a wobbly stone on the fireplace hearth, something the kids had always done in the old house. The stone, surprisingly, came loose.

She peered into the opening. A small, dark space opened before her. She crawled through, scraping her knees on the rough stone. She stood in a small space, the air heavy with an ancient, musty smell. The walls were lined with old paintings, their colors faded and their subjects blurred. She felt a knot in her stomach.