Gemotions

She'd always known her aunt as a free spirit, a woman who flitted through life, unburdened by commitments or attachments. Her aunt, when she died, left behind a trunk full of old photos. Her aunt told stories of self reliance. She found the pictures of a family: a husband, children.

She sat on the floor, the album open in front of her. The faces in the photos smiled back at her, a smiling family she never knew about. She felt a sting in her eyes. It was like her aunt had spent her entire life hiding her, excluding her from all of her family’s stories.

Her fingers trembled as she turned the page. The truth she had uncovered felt like a lead weight in her chest. She couldn't understand.