Gemotions

The gallery buzzed with chatter and the clinking of champagne flutes. Emily stood in a corner, watching the crowd admire her photographs. Or, rather, the photographs that *should have been hers*. But, the exhibition placards, bore a different name.

She felt a hollowness in her chest, a void where pride should have been. Her vision swam, the lights blurring. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This felt like a nightmare, a cruel joke. Her stomach twisted, and her head began to pound.

She forced a smile, and the effort felt like it cost her every ounce of energy. The air was thick with pretense and false smiles. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to rip the display down. Instead, she took another sip of her champagne, the metallic taste doing nothing to soothe the growing ache in her heart.