Gemotions

John sat on the edge of Liam's bed, the crumpled printout of the anonymous account clutched in his hand. The words, so carelessly typed, stung. They painted a picture of a son he didn't recognize: resentful, sarcastic, and… unhappy.

He felt a deep pang, a hollow echo in his chest. He’d thought he knew his son.

John rose, the chair groaning in protest. He went to the kitchen and made coffee. The steam from the mug blurred his vision. He needed to talk to his wife, to confess his discovery. The fear in his stomach threatened to overwhelm him.