Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, but the light did nothing to lift Mark’s spirits. He sat on the edge of the bed, the phone clutched in his hand. His son, Ethan, had been exhibiting a new brand of distance, a quiet, almost hostile detachment.

He'd found a second account, hidden away, filled with cryptic messages and pictures of friends Mark didn’t know. The implications were suffocating. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

He rubbed his eyes, the image of the other account burned into his memory. The room felt suddenly too small, too close, the air thick with unspoken words. He felt an overwhelming urge to run.