Gemotions

The old house felt different, now. The letter had arrived just after she'd inherited it, a place of comforting familiarity suddenly a source of disquiet. Eleanor walked through the rooms, each step a reluctant exploration. Dust motes danced in the sunlight, reflecting the tremor in her hands. The furniture, the paintings, her mother's possessions… all felt charged with an unfamiliar energy. She paused in the hallway, staring at a family portrait. Her mother, smiling. A stranger, now a sibling, lurking in the shadows of the past. She backed away, the portrait seeming to watch her, the house holding its breath.