Gemotions

She found it tucked inside a faded photo album – a crisp, neatly folded document. Her father’s handwriting, formal and precise, filled the page. A resignation letter to a company he claimed to have cherished. Eleanor stared at it, her jaw tight. She had always believed his tales of camaraderie, of being a valued member of the team. He'd painted a picture of a supportive workplace.

She felt a bitter taste rise in her mouth, as if she'd swallowed something rancid. Her hands tightened into fists, nails digging into her palms. The lies, the constant, pervasive lies. The image of his smiling face, always so full of warmth, suddenly felt like a carefully crafted mask. The carefully constructed persona he had worn for the world. She slammed the album shut, the sound a sharp crack in the quiet room.