Gemotions

The small, cluttered room, her childhood bedroom, felt both familiar and alien. It was a time capsule of her past, filled with old stuffed animals and faded posters. Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach.

Her mother, Margaret, bustled in, already reorganizing Sarah’s things. “You haven’t changed a thing!” she exclaimed, her voice a little too loud, a little too bright. Sarah saw the tremor in Margaret's hands as she picked up a porcelain doll. Sarah knew it wasn't easy for her mother, seeing her back in the house, a failure in some ways. She saw the lines of worry deepening around Margaret’s eyes, the forced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Sarah reached out and gently took the doll, and placed it back on the shelf. She said, “It’s lovely that you kept it all.” Her throat tightened, and she quickly looked away.