Gemotions

The antique key felt slick in Leo’s palm, almost as if it were sweating. He jiggled it in the lock of the front door, the metal groaning in protest. He hadn't been to this house, his grandmother's, since… well, since everything. A tremor ran through him. He glanced back at his sister, Maya, standing a little distance away, her arms crossed. This was a lot.

The house smelled of dust and something floral, like dried potpourri. He took a hesitant step inside. He remembered the creaking floorboards, the way the sunlight would stream through the stained-glass windows in the dining room. It felt different now, heavy with unspoken things.

He wasn't sure he could do this. He had to though. For Maya, he told himself.