Gemotions

The laptop felt heavy in her lap, like a weight she hadn't anticipated carrying. Her daughter, Maya, asleep upstairs, oblivious. A fake profile. A carefully curated online persona, so different from the girl who slammed doors and rolled her eyes at dinner. She’d stumbled upon it while trying to retrieve a lost password.

Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through the photos. Maya, laughing with friends she’d never mentioned. Posing with a boy, his arm casually around her shoulder. Each image felt like a tiny pinprick, a slow drip of something that was both confusing and painful. She closed the laptop, the screen reflecting her own bewildered face.

She went to the kitchen and made a cup of chamomile tea, her hand fumbling with the teabag. The silence of the house was now oppressive, each tick of the clock echoing in the stillness. A feeling of hollowness settled in her stomach.