Gemotions

"We need to talk," her grandmother had texted. The message, cryptic and loaded, sent a shiver down Lisa's spine. She knew. The whispers at the family reunion about Uncle George had finally reached her ears. Now, facing her grandmother, Lisa couldn’t meet her gaze. The older woman's features were etched with disappointment.

Lisa, normally quick-witted, found herself struggling to string together coherent sentences. Her palms were slick with perspiration. The antique furniture in the living room seemed to press in on her, suffocating. The air felt thick, heavy. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress. Each word, each shared story of Uncle George's new faith, felt like a personal failing, a stain on the family honor.