Gemotions

He’d always been the brave one, Liam thought, watching his sister, Maya, hovering near the front door. He, on the other hand, felt the cold prickle of goosebumps crawl up his arms. The peeling wallpaper seemed to leer, and the portraits of their stern-faced ancestors appeared to follow his every movement.

“It’s just a house, Maya,” Liam said, trying to sound reassuring. His voice cracked slightly. Maya didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the darkened hallway. She was fiddling with her keys, her fingers clumsy and fumbling.

The grandfather clock in the hall struck the hour, each resonant chime a hammer blow against his skull. He saw Maya flinch with each clang, her shoulders tightening. He felt a nervous urge to do something, to break the awful tension. "Right, let's start with the kitchen," he said, forcing a smile that felt unnatural on his face.