Gemotions

The adoption discovery had fractured her. She moved her furniture away from the walls, making sure she could always see the door. She found herself flinching at unexpected noises. A slamming car door on the street sent her scrambling for the curtain, peering through the slats, convinced someone was outside, waiting.

She began leaving her phone on, recording everything, just in case. She imagined herself as a character in a spy film, constantly on alert, looking for the telltale signs of danger. Her husband had noticed her behavior, his concern a palpable weight. But she couldn't explain. She couldn't tell him how she felt.

She refused to open the mail. Everything felt like a trap, a message from an unseen hand. The world had become a puzzle she couldn't solve, and every answer seemed to lead to a deeper, darker question.