Gemotions

The email had been cryptic: "Your work is being showcased." Amelia had dismissed it as a scam, until she saw *it*. Her photographic series, the intimate portraits of her grandmother battling Alzheimer’s, plastered on the front of a glossy magazine.

She felt a wave of dizziness, and she had to grip the edge of the kitchen counter to steady herself. Her grandmother had passed away last year. The photos were a sacred memory, a private tribute. Seeing them splashed across the pages, devoid of context, felt like a desecration.

She slammed the laptop shut, the metallic click echoing in the sudden silence. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. She felt a cold dread settle in her chest, a weight that threatened to crush her.