Gemotions

Agnes found the letter tucked between the pages of a forgotten novel. The handwriting, a familiar scrawl, was unmistakably her own, penned decades ago. Her heart thumped a frantic rhythm in her chest. She remembered the rage, the injustice she'd felt, all those years ago.

The paper felt brittle, fragile. She unfolded it slowly, as if afraid the very act would unleash something she'd worked so hard to bury. It was addressed to her father, a man she hadn't spoken to in over twenty years. Her breath hitched. A headache blossomed behind her eyes.

She read, her jaw clenching. Every sentence a punch to the gut. The accusations, raw and accusatory, stung even now. A tremor ran through her, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She balled the letter up, then released it, the crinkling sound amplifying the silence of the room. She felt trapped.