Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and dusty, catching in Leo’s throat. He coughed, a small, involuntary sound that echoed in the confined space. He shouldn’t be here. He knew that. Sarah guarded this place like a dragon its hoard. Yet, here he was, crouched in the dim light filtering through a single, grimy window, clutching a leather-bound book. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage.

The first entry, scrawled in Sarah’s familiar, loopy handwriting, was innocuous enough: "Learn to bake bread." He let out a shaky breath. But the next one... "See the Northern Lights." He squeezed the book tighter. He had always known about her dream of travel, of adventure. He'd never expected it to be so... delineated.

He scanned the subsequent pages, each entry a stab of anxiety. “Ride a horse on the beach.” “Learn a new language.” “Go skydiving.” He felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. He imagined her, a tiny speck against the vast blue, and a wave of nausea rolled over him. He needed to put the book back, pretend he hadn't seen it, but his fingers were frozen to the cover.