Mother's True Love.

Things.

Emily ran her fingers through her hair, the heat of the day pressing down on her like a weight. The sun blazed fiercely, and the wind felt as dry as the desert. Everyone seemed to be hiding under the cool shelter of their ceilings, but Emily had no choice; she had to get things done today, no matter how hot it was.

"What a day," she muttered, stepping on the gas as she pulled up in front of her new apartment building. The place was older but had its charm. She opened the car door and reached for the boxes in the backseat, her hands fumbling as she tried to juggle them.

"Ugh—damn it!" The box slipped from her grip, thudding onto the ground. She took a deep breath, setting the boxes down before trying again. Once she got inside, she hoped someone would be around to help her.

As she entered the lobby, she glanced around but found the receptionist's desk empty. "Great," she groaned, pacing in front of the desk and ringing the bell impatiently. The sound echoed in the empty space.

Finally, a young man in his mid-20s emerged from a door marked 'staff only.' He looked groggy, crumbs from his snack still dusting the corner of his mouth. "What can I help you with, Miss?" he asked, his tone half-hearted.

"Uh, hi. I need help moving some boxes from my car, but they're kinda heavy, so... could you?" Emily rubbed the back of her neck, feeling awkward.

"Sure, that's why I'm here," he replied, picking up the phone to call for assistance.

Moments later, a bellboy came rushing through a side door, eyeing Emily with a mix of curiosity and urgency. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze, a flush creeping up her neck.

"Any problems, Ms. Miller?" the young man asked with a smirk, tilting his head slightly.

"Uh, n-no, I'm good," she stammered, gripping her boxes tightly.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft 'cling,' and Emily hurried inside, feeling the chill of the air conditioning. She took a deep breath, letting the cool air wash over her.

"Which one is your desk?" the front guard asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Um, it's right there." Emily pointed to a dark blue desk near the window, already overwhelmed by the day.

As she approached her desk, something caught her eye—a red envelope lying there, conspicuously out of place. It had no sender and no address. A chill ran down her spine as she picked it up, examining it for clues.

"Hey, do you know who sent this?" she asked the front guard, who was still unpacking her boxes.

"Sorry, Ms. You might want to check with the receptionist; they might know something."

"Yeah, right." Emily nodded, still perplexed. She set the letter back down, trying to shake off the unease gnawing at her.

After the young man left, Emily collapsed into her chair, exhaustion washing over her. The red letter seemed to pulse with an energy that drew her in. She squinted at it, her mind racing, and then closed her eyes, letting sleep take her.

Emily jolted awake, heart racing as the nightmare replayed in her mind. She couldn't shake off the feeling of dread. Something was off. Her eyes flicked to the clock; the hands seemed to mock her. She had dozed off longer than intended.

The red envelope lay on her desk, beckoning her like a siren. A lump formed in her throat. The unsettling feeling about Jules gnawed at her, and she couldn't shake the fear that something terrible had happened.

With shaky hands, she ripped the envelope open, her breath hitching in her throat. The letter was brief, the handwriting familiar yet frantic.

Emily,
I don't know how to say this, but Jules... she's gone. I'm so sorry. We need to talk. Call me as soon as you get this.

The world around her blurred as the words sank in. "No, no, no," she gasped, clutching the letter tightly. It felt as if the floor had fallen out from under her.

The reality of Jules's absence crashed over her like a wave. Panic surged through her veins as she scrambled to her feet, adrenaline kicking in. She had to get back home—now.

"Damn it!" she yelled, almost tripping over her chair in her rush. She needed to leave—fast. Grabbing her bag, she shoved her phone, cigarettes, and lighter inside, her mind racing with thoughts of Jules.

Emily dashed toward the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly, but nothing happened. "Are you kidding me?" she shouted in frustration. The fear of being trapped in this moment clawed at her.

She glanced around, spotting the emergency exit sign glowing in the dim light. There was no time to waste.

"Get it together, Emily," she whispered, fighting against the tears. She pushed through the door, heart pounding as she rushed down the stairwell, each step fueled by her need to know what had happened to Jules.

Nothing mattered but getting home. She had to find out what was going on and if there was anything she could do to help.