Gemotions

A small, velvet box arrived in the mail, addressed to Mrs. Eleanor Ainsworth. Eleanor recognized the elegant script immediately – Marcus Bellweather, a student she hadn't seen in nearly twenty years. She held it, her fingers tracing the smooth surface, a prickle crawling across her skin. Curiosity warred with a feeling of unease.

She finally opened it, the satin lining catching the light. Inside, nestled on a bed of white silk, lay a tarnished silver locket. It was plain, save for a small, intricate carving of a bird in flight. She shivered, though the room was warm.

She carefully lifted the locket. It felt heavy in her hand. A faint, metallic scent rose from it, a smell that made her stomach clench. She tried to tell herself it was nothing, a forgotten trinket, but the lingering presence of Marcus, distant and unpredictable, was palpable.