Gemotions

The sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Amelia clutched the photograph, her knuckles white. It depicted her mother, years younger, standing in front of a sprawling Victorian house, hand-in-hand with a man who was definitely not her father.

Her stomach churned. All her life, her mother had painted a picture of a perfect, albeit tragically short, courtship with her father. Stories of a whirlwind romance, their eyes meeting across a crowded room, a love that transcended all else. This photograph, however, told a different story.

She felt a wave of nausea. She needed air.