Gemotions

The new house felt wrong, like an ill-fitting shoe. Amelia paced the length of the dining room, her hands clenched into fists. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, but she found no joy in it.

She’d spent the day trying to arrange her furniture, but it was a losing battle. Nothing felt right. The echoes of the day, as she’d been forced to be pleasant and grateful to the neighbors, played like a record in her head.

Restlessly, she roamed the hallways. She was drawn to the back of the house, where the old library was located. The room was dark and untouched. While examining a tapestry, a wooden panel to the side of the fireplace shifted subtly with a dull thud. Behind it, a narrow corridor beckoned, promising nothing but more shadows.