Gemotions

The lawyer had warned her. "Prepare yourself," he'd said. "It could resurface." But nothing could have prepared Clara for the actual letter, the tangible evidence of a pain she thought she had finally left behind. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the words, the familiar sting of betrayal flooding her senses.

She pushed her chair back from the table, the scrape of the legs against the hardwood floor loud in the otherwise quiet room. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, intending to call her sister, but she stopped. She felt a cold anger building within her. The air around her seemed to crackle.

She stared out the window, at the vibrant green of the trees in her yard. All she could see was red. She stormed from the dining room and into her garden. The roses she had carefully cultivated felt like a mockery. She wanted to rip them from the ground.