Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the house, a comforting scent that usually soothed Amelia. Tonight, however, it only amplified her anxiety. Her mother had gone to elaborate lengths, preparing all her favorite dishes.

Amelia sat at the kitchen table, picking at a slice of bread. Her mother watched her, her face a mask of concern. The silence was palpable, broken only by the ticking of the kitchen clock. The house felt suffocatingly warm, both physically and emotionally.

"Is everything okay, sweetie?" The question felt like a trap.