Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, the letter crinkling in his grip. The words, so carefully penned by his father, spoke of disillusionment, of a betrayal he'd never voiced. This wasn’t the story his father had told, not the one he’d lived by. The date, etched in faded ink, was years before his father supposedly started his own business. Years.

A knot formed in Liam’s stomach. The comfortable narrative he’d carried about his father, the hero, the self-made man, began to unravel. He felt a growing disquiet, a feeling of imbalance. He moved to the window, staring out at the familiar street, now rendered strange and unfamiliar. He had to know the truth. He had to find out what his father had kept hidden.