Gemotions

The gallery buzzed with chatter, but all Amelia could hear was the frantic pounding of her own heart. The vibrant tapestry, woven with threads she had meticulously dyed herself, was now presented as another's masterpiece. The color drained from her face. She felt an unsettling lurch in her gut.

She thought of the women who taught her the craft, the history of her people woven into the fabric. She felt a deep ache in her bones. The stolen artwork contained a story, their story. The tapestry held a sacred meaning. She had created it.