Gemotions

The silence of the hospital room was oppressive. Michael sat beside his father's bed, the letter clutched in his sweaty hand. His father, frail and barely conscious, had never mentioned his own father, Michael's grandfather. Until now.

He reread the words, his eyes scanning the lines of faded ink. He felt a strange unease, like a shadow falling over his heart. He wanted to understand, but everything was vague.

He watched his father's chest rise and fall, the rhythmic breaths a stark contrast to his own racing pulse. He felt a rising sense of unease, a chill that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.