Gemotions

The old trunk felt heavy in Clara's arms. She sat on the floor, sifting through the faded mementos. Her grandfather was a simple farmer, she had been told. The photo showed him in a tuxedo, laughing, holding a martini glass, surrounded by people who looked wealthy and sophisticated.

A coldness crept through her. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill. She felt like she was being watched. The silence in the room was deafening. She needed to know more, but the thought of what else she might find made her want to run and hide.