Gemotions

“I can’t believe this.” Amelia’s voice was barely a whisper. She stared at the photographs, her breath catching in her throat. She’d always idolized her Aunt Clara, the woman who’d taught her to read and whispered stories of heroism. The photographs showed her aunt in a different light. Smiling with a man that was not her uncle, the man was holding her hand as they looked into each other's eyes. The carefully crafted persona, the saintly image, dissolved into the cold reality of the picture. Her chest tightened.