Gemotions

She clutched the podium, her knuckles white. Across the room, her father winked, a gesture that usually would have made her laugh. Tonight, however, it only intensified the strange, unfamiliar pressure in her chest. The room felt immense, filled with the murmurs of colleagues and friends she'd only heard stories about. Their faces, illuminated by the soft glow of the chandeliers, seemed to be holding their breath, waiting.

Each breath felt thick. She glanced at the photo slideshow projected on the wall, images of her father, younger, more energetic, traversing the years. There were moments she couldn't remember, stories she wasn't part of. She felt a profound weight of the years, a recognition of all the things he'd done, all the sacrifices.