Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, quivered slightly in Amelia’s hand. She’d been halfway through her morning coffee, the newspaper still folded in her lap, when she saw it taped to the lobby door. A wave of heat washed over her, making her cheeks flush. Condo conversion. The words swam before her eyes.

She clutched the cup tighter, the ceramic digging into her palm. How could this be happening? She'd lived in the building for seven years, ever since she’d moved to the city.

Amelia’s apartment suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in. She reread the notice, searching for a hidden clause, a loophole, anything. Her breath hitched. This was insane.