Gemotions

The old photo album felt heavier than usual in Amelia's lap. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunbeams slicing through her living room window, illuminating the faces frozen in time. Aunt Carol with her boisterous laugh, Grandpa with his twinkling eyes, Mom...younger, softer. A fresh ache blossomed in her chest, a familiar feeling lately. A letter, received that morning, had changed everything. A half-sibling, a brother, named David. He wanted to meet.

She traced the outline of her mother's face with her finger, the curve of her cheekbone, the way her lips tilted in a half-smile. A wave of regret washed over her, a deep and melancholic yearning for a past she couldn't change. She reached for the small, worn music box on the coffee table. The melody it played, a gentle lullaby, used to be Mom's favorite.