Gemotions

The flickering screen illuminated Sarah’s face as she scrolled through the fake profile. Her daughter, Emily, had created a whole persona: a world traveler, a budding photographer, a free spirit. Sarah felt a twisting sensation in her stomach as she reviewed the lavish lifestyle Emily had fabricated. Why hadn’t her daughter felt comfortable enough to share the real her, the struggling student who worried about grades and the future? Sarah clicked off the phone, the cold metal feeling heavy in her hand. She stared at the closed door to Emily's room, a knot forming in her throat.

She busied herself in the kitchen, furiously scrubbing at the already spotless counter. Each swipe of the sponge was an attempt to erase the images from her mind, the curated perfection that felt so unlike her own child. She glanced at the clock, the seconds ticking by with an unbearable slowness. Dinner was in fifteen minutes, and she was already dreading the strained pleasantries, the forced smiles, the awkward silences that would inevitably fill the space between them.