Gemotions

A wave of heat crashed over David as he examined the tablet. His teenage son, Mark, had been so secretive lately. He’d noticed the boy constantly glued to his phone, a guardedness in his eyes that he hadn't seen before. Now, staring at this unknown profile, his suspicion solidified into something heavier.

He reread the comments, the tone of the posts. This wasn't the Mark he knew. This was… darker. He felt a need to act, a pressing urgency in his chest. His hands clenched, nails digging into his palms.

He went to find his wife, his voice clipped. "We need to talk," he managed. His gaze darted around the kitchen, as if expecting someone to materialize. The ordinary items of their life, the kettle, the fruit bowl, seemed hostile, unfamiliar. His entire being felt taut, a coiled spring ready to snap.