Gemotions

“Another box,” Clara muttered, the words raspy. Her voice felt thick, like she’d swallowed sandpaper. The new house, a sprawling mansion, mocked her with its grand scale. After months of endless packing and selling, she felt like a shell.

She dragged a box into the dusty library, collapsing onto the floor. As she leaned against the wall, her gaze fell on a large, intricately carved bookcase. She ran her fingers across the wooden facade, noticing a slight give in one of the panels.

With a gentle push, the panel swung inwards, revealing a hidden space behind the bookshelf. The room was dark and silent, a forgotten sanctuary. Clara just slumped against the wall, the effort of everything hitting her like a wall of water.