Gemotions

The doorbell chimed, a cheerful sound that felt like a death knell in the sudden stillness of the apartment. Amelia pressed herself against the wall, her hand flying to her throat as if to check for a pulse. Peeking through the peephole, she saw only the delivery person, a young woman in a uniform holding a bouquet of vibrant red roses. There was no card. Amelia's breath hitched.

She slowly unlocked the door, a tremor running through her arm. The woman smiled, handing her the flowers with a practiced, "Have a nice day!" Amelia managed a weak nod, taking the bouquet, her fingers brushing against the cold, smooth cellophane. It felt like a warning.

Back inside, she slammed the door, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. She clutched the roses, the thorns pricking her skin, as if they, too, were trying to warn her.