Gemotions

The world tilted on its axis for Amelia. Her daughter, Chloe, had always been devout, attending church every Sunday. Now, Chloe was telling her, calmly and matter-of-factly, that she was leaving the church for Mormonism. Amelia's breath hitched, a shallow, frightened gasp. She stared at the floral wallpaper in the kitchen, the pattern blurring at the edges. A coldness spread from her chest, numbing her limbs. She reached out, grasping at the edge of the kitchen table for support. "Chloe, please," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "are you sure?"