Gemotions

The carefully orchestrated holiday dinner at her adoptive parents’ house became a battleground of passive-aggressive commentary. Laura kept her voice sweet, saccharine, as she dissected the family's traditions, the "loving" gestures, and the shared memories that now seemed to her like elaborate stagecraft.

She picked at her food, a vibrant green salad, but took no pleasure from it. Everything was a performance. Everything was a lie. Her adoptive brother tried to make small talk, but she just gave terse answers. He’d never understand.

Later, she found herself walking alone in the city, the cold wind whipping at her face. The twinkling lights of the city felt distant and artificial, like the smiles she’d been forced to wear all night.