Gemotions

Eliza stared at the images, her jaw working as if she were chewing something unpleasant. The box was a treasure trove of contradictions. Her grandmother, the sweet, gentle soul, was pictured, laughing with a group of friends in a dimly lit bar. She was draped in fur, holding a cocktail.

She ran a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips. *This can’t be real*, she thought, though the evidence was undeniable. The contrast with the woman she’d known was jarring. Eliza felt an unsettling sensation in her chest, a mixture of bewilderment and something akin to a rising heat.