Gemotions

The bus rumbled along, each jolt a fresh assault on Eleanor’s already brittle composure. She’d decided to read on the way to her son's school. She had a pile of things she needed to get done, and she was already falling behind. The book, a well-worn copy of “Pride and Prejudice,” had seemed like the perfect distraction, but nothing was working.

She'd bought it at a sale, a small pleasure in a week that had been anything but. She flipped through the pages with a curt movement, looking for a likely starting point.

Something slipped out. A photograph. A black and white image of a young woman smiling. Eleanor’s mouth thinned. Another intrusion.

She picked it up, her fingers tracing the faded edges. The woman’s eyes seemed to meet hers, and she felt a sharp stab of something she couldn't name. She turned it over. A note.