Gemotions

The old trunk creaked open, revealing a treasure trove of forgotten memories. Grace felt a warmth spreading through her chest as she sifted through the contents. It had been a long time since she had felt this invigorated.

A small album, tucked away beneath a pile of quilts, caught her eye. It was filled with photographs of her aunt, Margaret, a woman who always seemed sad, her expression a mask of sorrow. Family tales described her as a victim of circumstance.

The photographs showed something else entirely. Margaret was beaming on a ski slope, she was dancing at a ball, she was laughing with a gaggle of friends. Grace grinned to herself.