Gemotions

The email arrived like a punch to the gut. The subject line: “Your childhood home.” Amelia’s hand flew to her chest, where her heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn’t bring herself to open it immediately. She stared at the screen, her vision blurring slightly.

She finally clicked, her curiosity winning out over a deep-seated reluctance. The listing. The price. The comments, gushing over the “charming features.” A sob, sharp and unexpected, escaped her. She felt like she was drowning.

She leaned back in her chair, the world tilting precariously. Her apartment, once a sanctuary, now felt cold and empty. She needed to be held, to be comforted. She reached for the phone, the number of her mother on speed dial.