Gemotions

"I'm joining the Church of Scientology," his brother, David, had announced, a smug grin plastered across his face. Amelia felt a cold wash over her, a sudden, unpleasant dampness that seemed to seep into her bones. Her breath hitched. The room, usually a comforting space filled with the aroma of her mother's baking, now felt suffocating.

She played with the hem of her sweater, pulling at the threads, the action a frantic attempt to distract herself. Her eyes darted around the room, landing on the framed photos on the mantelpiece, each a carefully curated memory of their family. She suddenly felt a pressing need to run her fingers over each one, to reassure herself that nothing was truly changing.

Her throat felt tight, and she could hardly manage a whisper when she spoke. "But... but why?" she finally managed. The question sounded small, almost pathetic.