Gemotions

"I've found my truth," Michael said, his tone serene, his eyes shining. He was converting to Judaism. His sister, Clara, felt a strange pressure building behind her eyes. She gripped the edge of the kitchen table, her knuckles whitening. The familiar clatter of dishes washing, the comforting scent of coffee brewing, all felt alien. She wanted to scream, to ask him if he was joking, if this was some elaborate prank. She didn't. She just stared, her mouth slightly agape, unable to form a response.