Gemotions

My hands wouldn't stop shaking as I scrolled. The profile photo – a girl with a cascade of fiery red hair, nothing like the practical, shoulder-length bob my daughter usually wore. My breath hitched. This couldn't be right. Her username, “ScarlettGoth,” screamed rebellion, a universe away from the quiet, studious teenager who folded laundry with me every Sunday. I slammed the laptop shut, the sudden click echoing in the otherwise silent house.

I paced the living room, heart drumming a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I needed to know. The password, I remembered, the one she used for everything: her birthday. I ran to her room.

Her room was a haven of neatness and order. Everything was in its place, just the way she liked it. I felt a wave of dizziness. I knew I shouldn't, but I grabbed her phone from the charger. My thumb trembled as I entered the code.