Gemotions

He’d found the account while attempting to troubleshoot his son, Noah’s, slow internet connection. The account was hidden, locked with a password he wouldn't have known if he wasn't tech savvy. Now, Michael stood in the doorway, the glow of the phone reflecting in his wide eyes. His stomach felt like a cold stone.

The posts were mundane, pictures of Noah’s lunch, his dog, and blurry selfies with a girl. But the comments... they were different. A language he didn’t understand, full of inside jokes and coded messages. Michael's hands began to sweat.

He bit down hard on his lower lip. It was a habit he thought he’d broken years ago, but now it returned. The world seemed to shrink around him, the walls of the hallway pressing in. He felt a deep pang of disconnection, as though he was standing on the outside looking in.