Gemotions

The musty smell of the old cedar chest filled the small room, but it was nothing compared to the overwhelming stench of disillusionment that hit Amelia. A picture in her hand showed her mother, the woman who was always "doing her best," laughing with a man who was not her father.

Her chest ached. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. The carefully constructed edifice of her childhood crumbled before her eyes.

She bit down on her lip, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. She wanted to run, to escape this room, to escape the truth laid bare before her.