Gemotions

The weight of the old album felt heavy in Maya's lap. She traced the outlines of a photograph. Her mother, usually so reserved, was laughing, her head thrown back, hair spilling across her shoulders. Next to her, a man Maya had never seen, and this man was smiling down at her mother. A happiness that Maya had only glimpsed in fleeting moments was vividly present in the picture.

Maya let out a shaky breath, pressing her knuckles against her mouth. Her throat felt constricted. The stories of her father’s unwavering love and devotion, the foundation of her childhood, now seemed fragile, fractured by the revelation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She couldn’t seem to breathe right.