Gemotions

She paced the living room, the polished floorboards reflecting her agitation. The day stretched before her, an expanse of emptiness she couldn’t fill. She needed to do something, anything. She went to the attic.

Inside the attic, she opened a box. She was searching for answers that weren’t there. She uncovered the photographs. Her sister, a woman who was supposed to be the paragon of virtue, was captured dancing at a nightclub, dressed in a red dress.

The image was so different. It didn't fit the stories. The pictures were proof of something she couldn't name. She felt a disquiet, a coldness spreading through her. The tale she had always known seemed incomplete, a carefully constructed illusion.