Gemotions

The tapestry, depicting scenes from their ancestors' lives, hung on the wall, a silent sentinel of their history. The tapestry was her last connection to her mother. Her father, a man more concerned with status than sentiment, had made the decision to sell.

Her body was frozen, stiff. She felt a burning ache behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to tears she wouldn't allow to fall. She wanted to yell, to scream, to make him understand. How could he?

She walked towards the tapestry, her steps slow and deliberate. She ran her fingers across the worn fabric, tracing the intricate threads. She would stop him. It was a matter of survival.