Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the therapist's office felt oppressive. Evelyn shifted in her chair, the leather squeaking in protest. Her gaze kept returning to the photos she’d brought, clutched in her hands.

Her mother, she was always told, was a shy, home-loving woman. A woman who put her family above all else. These photographs told a different story.

A woman, young and vibrant, riding a motorcycle, her hair streaming in the wind. A woman laughing with a group of friends. Evelyn felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It was a new world, a different reality than she had been raised in.