Gemotions

The key scraped in the lock, and Amelia braced herself. The house, her grandmother’s house, was a beautiful prison. The ornate details, the high ceilings, the shadows in every corner... she felt a tightening in her chest. She found herself wringing her hands, an old habit she thought she had outgrown.

Her brother, Daniel, was supposed to be here, but his text said he’d be late. She had to do this alone. The thought of sorting through the attic, the repository of family history, filled her with apprehension. She swallowed hard, feeling a familiar tightness in her throat. She dreaded what she might find up there. She wanted to run.

She touched the brass doorknob, feeling the cold metal against her skin.