Gemotions

The air in the dusty storage room felt charged. Michael stumbled backward, his hand flying up to his mouth. The photo in his hand depicted his grandmother, a woman who’d always been portrayed as a saint.

The woman was in a nightclub, laughing and dancing with several men. The stories of her life never mentioned anything like this. A wave of heat washed over him.

He felt an urgent need to learn more, to understand the full picture of this woman, to dissect every secret. It seemed so much more interesting than the lies he'd been told. His imagination ran wild.