Gemotions

“I don’t even know who my daughter *is*,” Maria muttered, pacing the kitchen floor. The discovery of the anonymous blog, "LostAndLonely," had left her feeling adrift. Posts about feeling unseen, misunderstood, not good enough. Her daughter, Emily, the model student, the perfect child, was clearly struggling.

Maria felt a knot in her throat, a physical manifestation of her concern. She had worked overtime to provide for Emily, to give her every advantage. She felt a sharp, cutting edge of guilt. She was supposed to protect her. She'd failed.

She poured herself a glass of wine, then stared at it, unmoving. The world outside, the streetlights and the passing cars, seemed to blur through the tears that pricked at her eyes.