Gemotions

"More tea, dear?" Her aunt’s voice, saccharine and cloying, grated on Chloe’s nerves. She forced a smile and shook her head, focusing on the stack of photos spread across the table. Another forced smile. Another family gathering.

The photos were from her great-grandmother’s youth. The stories described a woman of severe rectitude, a pillar of the community. In the pictures, however, she was dancing in a speakeasy. She was flirting with men in a way that defied the family's tales.

Chloe felt a rising heat in her cheeks, a flush of anger and something else, something she couldn’t quite name. She excused herself, the lie a practiced reflex, and went to the bathroom to get away. The mirrored image of her own face felt unfamiliar. She ran cold water over her wrists, trying to quell the inner storm.