Gemotions

The afternoon sun glinted off the glossy tape sealing the box. It was addressed to "Seraphina Moreau," a name she’d never heard. Her skin prickled. The mail carrier had just dropped it off. It wasn’t hers.

She circled the box, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The walls of the house seemed to close in around her, the air thick and heavy. The wind rustled through the trees outside, and she imagined whispers in the leaves.

She backed away, her mind racing. Should she open it? Should she call the police? What if Seraphina wanted this back? She felt a cold dread settle in her gut, a profound sense of foreboding.