Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and dusty, much like the memory of her father. Sarah found the list tucked inside a battered leather-bound journal. “See the Northern Lights.” "Learn to sail." "Finally tell off old Mr. Henderson." A smirk twisted her lips. Mr. Henderson. The man who'd always gotten the promotions her father should have.

She tracked down Henderson’s address, a sprawling mansion nestled in the hills. Clutching the list, she parked her beat-up car on his perfectly manicured lawn, the tires leaving muddy tracks. She rang the doorbell, a fake smile plastered on her face.

When he opened the door, she unleashed a torrent of carefully chosen words, highlighting every professional slight, every missed opportunity, every ounce of her father’s disappointment, all delivered with a sweet, lethal calm. He stammered, his face turning the color of overripe tomatoes. She left him speechless, the bucket list item crossed off in her mind.