Gemotions

“But… our traditions,” Amelia stammered, her voice shaking. Her brother, Thomas, was becoming a Scientologist. She felt like her whole world was tilting on its axis. He had always been so pragmatic, so grounded in reality.

The air in the room felt thick, heavy with unspoken accusations and unresolved emotions. Amelia kept fiddling with her necklace, twisting the chain around her finger. The silence was agonizing. She looked at her father, who stared at his son, his face a mask of bewilderment.

Later, she found herself staring out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass, blurring the world outside. She hugged herself, trying to ward off a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.