Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the otherwise quiet kitchen. Elena sat at the table, running her fingers over the cold, smooth surface. Her daughter, Isabella, had become a ghost, a presence that drifted through the house, leaving behind only echoes.

She found the account by accident. The words on the screen felt like a punch to the gut. It was Isabella, but not her Isabella. The carefully crafted image, the hidden thoughts – all were things she had no awareness of.

Elena felt a sharp pang of sorrow, a physical tightness in her chest. She stood up, feeling restless, and walked to the window, watching the streetlights bleed into the darkness.