Gemotions

The antique key felt slick in Leo’s palm, the metal cold against his skin. He shoved it into the lock, the tumblers groaning in protest. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight cutting through the gloom of the hallway. He felt his jaw clench as he pushed the heavy oak door open.

He could feel the familiar weight in his chest, the quickening of his breath. His sister, Clara, stood behind him, chewing on her lip as she always did when faced with something uncertain. “Well?” she asked, her voice tight.

Leo didn't respond immediately. He just stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He’d promised himself he’d be calm. He'd even practiced breathing exercises on the drive over. But this house… it held a lot.