Gemotions

The silence in the room was deafening. The letter lay open on the coffee table, the words – *... another child... a son...* – mocking her. Sarah felt a chill despite the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming through the window. She picked at a loose thread on the sofa, a futile attempt to channel her agitation.

She felt a phantom sensation, as though a piece of her had been ripped away. The familiarity of her home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure a sense of calm, but the image of her father, and the secret he had kept, intruded, vivid and unsettling. Tears pricked her eyes.