Gemotions

The silence in the room was deafening. Jennifer sat on her daughter's bed, the laptop still open on her lap. She had stumbled upon a whole life, a whole world her daughter, Olivia, had built without her. A world of coded messages, of inside jokes, of a group of friends who were completely unknown to her. A shiver ran down her spine.

She ran her hand over the soft comforter, as if trying to find some tangible connection. The room was tidy, almost clinical. It looked like a museum, not a bedroom. Everything was in its place, and yet she felt lost. She stared at the ceiling, trying to take a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, and remembered Olivia’s laughter, her easy smile. She remembered how she’d thought she knew her daughter. The memory felt like it belonged to another person. She felt a profound and painful emptiness, a yearning for something she could never quite grasp.