Gemotions

"Impossible," Amelia muttered, slamming the lid of the overflowing suitcase. Her father’s handwriting, neat and precise, filled the pages of the bucket list. "See the Northern Lights." The idea was ludicrous. She hated the cold, hated traveling, and absolutely loathed anything remotely "spiritual," as she'd described it. He'd never even hinted at wanting to see the Northern Lights. He’d always been a homebody. Yet, there it was, item number one. She gripped the suitcase handle until her knuckles whitened.