Gemotions

The ringing phone sliced through the quiet of the late evening. Mark scrambled to answer it, his movements abrupt. Sarah watched him from the sofa, the remote clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles were white. He'd been getting these calls for weeks now, always at odd hours, always a quick retreat into the spare bedroom.

She pretended to read her book, but her eyes kept darting toward the closed door. A cold sensation prickled on her skin, a sensation she couldn't quite explain. The light from the lamp seemed to dim, casting shadows that danced in the corners of her vision. Her heart began to race.

He came back, his smile strained. "Just my brother," he said, too quickly, the words hanging in the air.