Gemotions

The ornate chandelier cast a harsh, unforgiving light. Jessica stood near the restrooms, trying to compose herself. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. Her father, a man of unwavering strength, was retiring, and she was supposed to celebrate. Instead, a wave of sickness threatened to overwhelm her.

She had rehearsed her speech repeatedly, but the words felt foreign, disconnected from her. She felt like a fraud. She kept picking at a loose thread on her dress, a nervous tic. She caught her reflection in the mirror, and the woman staring back seemed unfamiliar.

She leaned against the cool tile, desperate for a moment of quiet.