Gemotions

Michael stared at the grainy photograph in his trembling hands. It depicted his great-uncle, a man they'd been told had died a hero saving children from a burning building. Yet, here he was, in a crisp uniform, arm-in-arm with a group of men wearing swastikas. His stomach churned. The room seemed to shrink around him, the walls pressing in. He hadn't expected to find this.

The air in the study felt heavy, laden with a past he didn't recognize. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture automatic, desperate. He felt a sudden, sharp ache behind his eyes. He’d always felt a bond with this man, this hero, only to discover the story wasn't true. He felt a profound sense of disorientation, as though the ground beneath him had shifted.