Gemotions

Her breath hitched as she parked her car. This wasn’t a retreat; it was a conquest. She would fix everything. Her parents, their worries, the mess she’d become. The weight of expectations settled on her. As the gate creaked open, she took a steadying breath.

“Mom? Dad? It's me,” she announced, her voice steady. Her mother appeared at the doorway, a look of cautious joy etched on her face. Her father, ever the practical one, was in the kitchen, humming.

It was time to get to work. She would organize the pantry, tackle the mountain of laundry, and mend the fence. She could do anything. She *would* do anything. She would be an iron pillar of support.