Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of the old Victorian house, mirroring the storm brewing inside Amelia. She sat slumped in a worn armchair, the ornate carvings digging into her back. Her brother, Daniel, was beaming. His face, usually etched with worry lines, radiated a startling, almost unsettling, joy. He was telling her about his upcoming baptism, about a new community, about a faith that felt, he kept saying, "right."

Amelia picked at a loose thread on the armrest. The words washed over her, a relentless tide she didn’t have the energy to fight. Her eyelids felt heavy, her shoulders slumped further. The light in the room seemed to dim, the shadows of the past swirling around her. It was all a little too bright, too loud, too… much. She closed her eyes.