Gemotions

The house felt cold, even with the central heating running. Eleanor shuffled towards the staircase, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. She’d spent the last few hours poring over the account, her fingers trembling as she scrolled. Her eyelids drooped as she tried to make sense of it all.

Her son, Daniel, had a secret life. It was a carefully constructed fantasy of late-night gatherings and reckless abandon. The content was shocking, exposing a side of him she never knew existed. She felt a profound sense of failure, a crushing sense of inadequacy.

She leaned heavily on the banister, each step an enormous effort.