Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the dusty windows, illuminating swirling motes of dust that danced in the air. Sarah sat frozen, the album open in her lap. The photographs were like a punch to the gut. The story of her grandfather, the devoted family man, was a carefully crafted fairytale.

This grandfather, in the photos, was anything but. He stood with his arms around a woman, their faces pressed close, laughing. She felt the blood drain from her face. She closed the album, her hands shaking, and stared at the patterned wallpaper, the colors now appearing far too bright.

“I… I need to get out of here,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. The confines of the room seemed to shrink, suffocating her.