Gemotions

Rain hammered against the windowpanes as Amelia shuffled through the albums. The family legend of her grandfather – a war hero, always so stoic. Here he was, in faded snapshots, arm-in-arm with a woman who definitely wasn't her grandmother. They were at a beach, laughing, arms around each other.

Amelia’s fingers traced the edges of the photo. She knew the woman’s name now: Evelyn. The album smelled of old paper and something else she couldn’t place, something almost sickly sweet. She closed the album and went to make some tea. The kettle took a long time to boil.