Gemotions

He’d found it wedged between the pages of his father’s old, leather-bound journal. Liam blinked, the afternoon sun a blinding glare through the dusty window. It was a draft; a crumpled mess of crossed-out sentences and furious scribbles. The subject? His father’s departure from his cherished university professorship.

Liam had always believed his father had retired gracefully, happy to pursue his writing. The draft, though, told a different story. It was a raw, aching lament. Accusations of betrayal, of academic politics, of having his life’s work undermined.

Liam felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He felt his hands begin to tremble. His vision swam for a moment, and he reached for the wall to steady himself. This wasn't the man he knew, the kind, avuncular figure who read him bedtime stories.