Gemotions

The realtor’s voice droned on, outlining the property’s potential. But Maya couldn't focus. The house felt like a tomb, each room echoing with the absence of her grandmother’s laughter.

She walked through the kitchen. The kitchen where her grandmother had taught her to bake. She’d been too busy, too preoccupied with her own life, to appreciate those lessons.

She picked up a dusty cookbook, its pages filled with handwritten notes. She should have asked more questions. She should have learned more. He couldn't stop the hot tears that streamed down her face.