Gemotions

The artwork. A meticulously detailed drawing of a magnificent castle, perched atop a snow-capped mountain. The drawbridge was lowered, and tiny figures, resembling people, were walking towards the entrance. It was a representation of the castle of my childhood dreams. My niece, Daisy, stood beside it, her face glowing. I felt a flush creep up my neck.

"It's Princess Willow's castle," Daisy declared with confidence. "She lets everyone in."

I looked down at the drawing, then back at Daisy. My voice caught in my throat. I couldn't speak. I looked around, desperately seeking a distraction. I fiddled with my hair, my hands shaking. I cleared my throat, then took a step back, my gaze fixed on the drawing. I wanted to escape, to disappear. The feeling of exposure was overwhelming.